Alliances
by Azure K Mello
Summary: Draco loses his memory and everyone wants Harry to fix him. slash. COMPLETE.
1. 1

Title: Alliances  
  
Part: 1/?  
  
Pairing: Draco/Harry  
  
Summery: Draco gets beaten into a coma by his father, what happens when he wakes up?  
  
Setting: end of the summer before seventh year (OotP spoilers)  
  
Rated R  
  
Writer: Azure K Mello  
  
Feedback? Please  
  
Warning: angst, child abuse  
  
Thank you, Kari, for the fast and thorough beta.  
  
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Blame it on the inbreeding. Pureblood families marry pureblood families and eventually everyone ends up similar. Wizards love gossip. Any gossip. All wizards, right from the Minister of Magic to the dustmen love gossip. And the more tragic it is the better received it becomes. Salacious or heartbreaking stories always get more space in the paper than real news. New laws and foreign policy are pushed to the side in favor of a story about the foreign minister's mistress' baby.  
  
The News that the Dementors had defected was shocking enough to get on the front page of the Daily Prophet. But below that was the article that no one could stop talking about. A picture of a stunning young man was positioned next to an editorial. The piece told a far more personal tale about the Azkaban break out than the essay above it had. The handsome young man's father had been a Death Eater. When the man broke out of prison he had learned that his son was helping the side of the light. In a rage, the man had beaten his son into a coma. Draco Malfoy smiled, forlornly beautiful on the front page. Every mother's heart broke, every girl harbored fantasies of comforting the angel, and every father wanted to kill the man that could do such a thing to his own son.  
  
The newspapers and magazines followed each development in the boy's health. Now he was out of the coma. Today he spoke for the first time. "Draco Walks!" was in bold type on the cover. It only took him a week to fully recover, it was a miracle. The fact that he was returning to Hogwarts for his seventh year shocked no one. If anyone could take care of the lad it had to be Albus Dumbledore. Draco was being held in Saint Mungo's until the term started.  
  
The hospital did manage to keep one secret from the press.  
  
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Harry was miserable. He always hated being out of the loop during the summers. Draco had written to him everyday for the first two weeks. Letters that were filled with news of the world and of the war and personal thoughts came to him every night before he went to sleep. But then they stopped and it almost seemed like a sick joke. He had gotten a subscription to the Prophet, against his better judgment, so that he would have some idea of what was happening. Even if that idea was warped and misrepresented to him. He was forced to read about current events in the same paper that had once accused him of being and insane, drama queen killer. But while he got the paper he had his finger on the pulse, and it scared him. He was scared and Draco wasn't there to make fun of his cowardice and call him a wuss.  
  
Ron wrote to him to gloat. He said Draco had "gotten his". It didn't matter, Ron said, that Draco had changed sides because he was still a right bastard. And, Ron added, it was a pity that the blond had woken up from his coma. Flames had erupted out of Harry's finger's as he held each new letter from his supposed best friend. Since he had started at Hogwarts he had never lost control and used magic unwittingly. But in the face of shock and horror he reverted back into being an untrained wizard. The Dursley's had cheered when they saw the letter from the ministry. They thought he was going to get kicked out of the freak school. Vernon had read over his nephew's shoulder and had been deeply disappointed at what he read.  
  
"Dear Mr. Potter,  
During these trying times we respectfully ask you to try and control your magic. We understand that under the mitigating circumstances allowances must be made. This summer, and indeed the last year, has been extremely taxing. But, none the less, we want you to follow the laws.  
The Ministry of Magic"  
  
Vernon shook with anger. If the boy was kicked out there would be a valid reason to kick him out onto the streets. "'Mitigating circumstances'? What are they talking about, boy? I thought you were out on your arse if you did any more funny stuff."  
  
"I'm the only one who can kill the most powerful dark wizard to walk the earth." Harry spoke without any fear, or indeed any emotion at all. His eyes just stared blankly at the note. The fingers holding the parchment kept sparking and a low whining noise seemed to originate from beneath his finger nails. "My friend was in a coma and I still don't know how he is," he swallowed hard, "and I'm forced to be here, away from everything I know. They need to keep me sweet so that when the time comes I will die for their cause. Until then I can do whatever I want." Slowly he rose his head and looked directly into his uncle's eyes. The large man recoiled at the sight of the suddenly blue eyes were green should have been.  
  
There was only a week left before school was to start. In the morning paper Harry had read that Draco was going back to school a week early. The article didn't say anything about his state. And no letter had arrived. Harry was deeply afraid. Draco had been out of the coma for a whole week yet the boy hadn't written him once. He had been unconscious for two weeks in which time Harry had written him four dozen letters. Of course the boy never sent them. Maybe Draco was trying to get his thoughts together. Maybe the boy wasn't able to put what he was thinking down on paper. Maybe he didn't give a damn about whether or not Harry knew he was ok or dead, maybe he just didn't care.  
  
He turned away from his uncle and started to walk up the stairs when he heard a small pop behind him. Vernon let out a very manly shriek. Smirking, Blaise Zabini said softly, "Sorry. Didn't mean to shock anyone." Harry turned around at the sound of the erudite young man. A slow smile stretched across Blaise's mouth. "You look thin, Potter." The smile didn't meet his worried eyes.  
  
For one mad moment Harry considered hugging the Slytherin but thought it might be a bad idea. "Is he ok?"  
  
"He's fine, Harry." It was odd. In their sixth year Blaise had usurped Ron's place as Harry's best friend.  
  
Upon figuring it all out he had cornered Harry in an empty corridor. Harry had expected the boy to beat him up. Instead the boy had just stood silent for a moment before telling Harry that it was "about damn time". He had threatened to kill Harry should he do anything to hurt Draco. He was the only student in the school who knew about them. It didn't take long for Harry to realize why Draco liked the quiet boy so much. The superficially silent lad was an angry, funny, and sarcastic bastard behind closed doors. When Crabbe tripped a first year Hufflepuff the dark haired boy had helped her pick up her stuff. He, a Slytherin, got down on his knees in front of three fourths of the school to help a Hufflepuff. She looked as if she might cry, embarrassed that her entire house had seen her fall during her first week there. Blaise had whispered things to her as he collected her papers and when she stood she had a smile on her face and laughed when she saw Crabbe still standing there. As they had walked away Blaise just shook his head and rolled his eyes at Cabbe and walked past him unconcerned. Blaise would kill for the people he considered his, but he would never enjoy it. Somewhere along the line Harry had somehow fallen into the boy's protection.  
  
When Harry had faced Voldemort twice the year before he had Blaise and Draco covering his back. They were the only two to live through these little excursions Hermione, Cho, and Ginny had died. Ron had been in the hospital wing for both fights, he felt Draco had failed to protect his sister. He felt that Draco was playing them. Dumbledore had promoted this idea, the whole school thought that Draco was a spy for Voldemort and considered Dumbledore as stupid for trusting him. This notion kept Draco safe from his housemates. The things that Ron said about Draco had made Harry so angry. Late at night he held Draco when while the blond cried over the girl. Draco could not be convinced that her death wasn't his fault. He should have been watching her more closely. He should have kept her behind him. He should have convinced Harry not to let her come, it didn't matter that she was good, she was still only fifteen. And when he heard Ron's hatful words he itched to hex the nose off of the red head's face. He knew that his friend would never, ever accept his lover. Meanwhile Blaise was helping Harry in taking care of Draco, acting as a voice of reason. Because of his status as "childhood friend" Blaise was more apt to get through to Draco than Harry was. At times Blaise would just grab Harry's arm and pull him into a closet to give the boy who lived an update on Draco's psyche. He was kind and never raised his voice towards Harry's already upset lover.  
  
And now the boy was standing at the foot of the stairs looking at Harry with compassionate eyes. "Fine means fuck all to me, Blay." He saw Blaise flinch. "Please, what's happening."  
  
The other wizard shot a meaningful look at Vernon and then before he could say anything Dudley walked in from the kitchen. Looking at Harry he snickered, "What happen your boyfriend die or something?"  
  
"No and he isn't going to," Blaise said in his frank and annoyed way, "He's fine."  
  
He had unwittingly just outed Harry to his bigoted family but at this point Harry didn't care and barely noticed. He was still trying to figure out what was going on. Unconsciously he let Blaise to start driving him up the stairway. "I did *not* raise a poof," said an angry voice.  
  
Sighing Blaise gave Harry a small push and said, "Pack, we're leaving." With a slight nod Harry walked up the stairs. He would let Blaise fight this one for him. Turning back to Vernon the Slytherin said, "I believe you're right. From all the little things I've gleaned over time I'm inclined to believe that. You didn't raise him. He dragged himself up." He turned and walked to Harry's room. "What a complete and total prat. So I heard you burned a muggle to death and were expelled."  
  
"I fucking hate the rumor mill." Harry's voice was filled with venom. "I set a piece of paper on fire. And then they sent me this load of polite crap." He handed the note to Blaise, "How did you know, it only happened like five minutes ago?"  
  
"Rumor mill. This is crap. 'Stop or we will ask you to stop again'."  
  
"You apparated. That's illegal. How did you get away with it?" asked Harry suddenly confused, Blaise was too young to apparate.  
  
"I'm on official business for Dumbledore, he got clearance. He asked for me to bring you back., Draco is at the castle."  
  
"I know, I read in the paper. I missed you." Blaise hadn't written in a week. "But we've all been busy, have you spoken to Co? Is he ok?"  
  
Blaise smiled at the pet name that slipped off of Harry's tongue. He remembered Draco making fun of the boy for it ("Co, you're calling me Co now?"). "Harry, maybe you should sit down."  
  
Harry just shook his head. "I hate it when you do this, just tell me, don't prep me for the blow."  
  
This was bad, Blaise didn't want to burst his friend's bubble. Harry should have been allowed to bask in the knowledge that his lover was safe but instead he was going to get smashed into a wall. There was no way to put it off any longer. "The newspapers missed out one important detail." 


	2. 2

Title: Alliances 2/?  
  
D/H, R, angst and child abuse, spoilers for OotP  
  
Other notes in prior part.  
  
Find it here:   
  
To insight_to_insanity, for the amazing show of intellect in guessing the cliff hanger. Thanks to everyone for the feedback.  
  
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"Blaise, just say it." Harry was ticking with anxiety.  
  
"His dad hit him hard-"  
  
"Really? I thought it was a love tap," Harry interrupted with sarcasm, "skip the intro."  
  
"His brain hit his skull and he doesn't remember anything." Blaise said it all in one breath.  
  
"That's ok though, it's almost good that he doesn't remember it. He shouldn't have to remember it."  
  
"No, I don't mean that he doesn't remember his dad beating him. I mean he doesn't remember anything. He had to be told his own name."  
  
As if the room suddenly went into slow motion Harry slid to the floor. "It could be worse," he said from down on the floor. "He would hate it if he had become retarded, or if he was mentally sane and capable but couldn't talk. He would be miserable if he was paralyzed. Things could be worse." He kept nodding as he tried to convince himself that the bottom hadn't fallen out of his world. "He doesn't remember anything?"  
  
"He remembers all of the magic," said Blaise slowly as he tried to calculate Harry's reaction, "He could transfigure a hamster into a dining set if he liked but he has to wear Velcro shoes as he doesn't remember how to tie the laces of his boots. But the medi-wizards said he could get all of his memories back, it'll just take a while."  
  
"Maybe it's for the best," said Harry as he turned to pack, "he gets a fresh start with no one and nothing to hold him back."  
  
A long silence stretched between them. For one it was filled with sadness and grief and for the other it was sheer rage. "Excuse me?" asked Blaise slowly. "Ya know, I trusted you. People told me not to, I got put down for being openly friendly with you. And I did it all because I liked you. How dare you? Was this all a game? 'no one to hold him back'? You used him and now you don't have to dump him because he doesn't even remember you." He sighed angrily, "How convenient for you." Harry spun around and hit the boy in the jaw so brutally that Blaise hit the opposite wall.  
  
"Don't you dare impugn my honor, boy." Harry laughed as he realized that he had just quoted a Disney movie. And then manically added, "You're the first person I've hit in... forever. I don't remember the last time I hit someone. It must be years ago now. Recently I've just had to point and mutter and people drop down dead. Hurray for magic. I told him I would protect him. He scoffed and said he could get better muscle. But I told him I would. And then his dad beats him up. It's so barbaric, and crass, and easy. And I didn't protect him. Me, the boy who grew up with muggles couldn't stop a muggle assault on his lover. The boy who fucking lived can't take care of his lover. I failed him."  
  
Blaise considered getting up but realized that it was a bad idea when he noticed that Harry's eyes had gone blue. Very few wizards were actually mages. Mages were perfectly in tune with nature, able to bend it to their will. They didn't need wands, didn't need words, or potions. There hadn't been a mage in over two hundred years. Only a true and pure being could ever be a mage. Despite his power Voldemort never made the cut, he had tried to force himself to become one, it nearly killed him. Harry had broken the pattern. No one had known about his gift until the day Hermione, Cho, and Ginny died. Harry had suddenly given up on all the rules of conduct. Everything cultured flew out the window and he was left in the most base and pure form. Without a word or movement a shield had gone up around his small group. The battle field exploded while the children stood unscathed. Voldemort was the only thing left on the decimated plane. Harry had meet his red eyes with a blue, innocent gaze. And for the second time he made it into the history books, no longer a one hit wonder.  
  
"Harry," he said slowly, trying to placate the boy while still on the floor.  
  
"Shut up. Don't deny it. It's my fault. I should have had a vision, should have known he was in trouble. How is it that I can know when Voldemort is torturing total strangers and yet I can't even sense it when he's in the presence of the most important person in my life?" He looked up, as if talking to god, or the fates, "How should I fight your war if you won't let me save the people I need?" he shook his head with disgust, ire, and self loathing. "His father wouldn't have done this if it weren't for me and my stupid war. If Draco had stayed quiet, not spoken up about his stand on dark magic then his dad wouldn't have touched him. But Draco decided he was gonna be all noble and tell the whole world that he was a good guy. But then Lucius Malfoy had to take his own stand and prove to his master where he stood. He couldn't let his own son run around disgracing his name. If I had kept my distance, if I hadn't convinced him to switch sides he would be fine now."  
  
"He would be a Death Eater or he'd be dead already," corrected Blaise.  
  
"Maybe this is for the best," repeated Harry, "He gets a fresh start. He isn't on any side, he doesn't have any idea there are sides. And he can do whatever he wants and he'll be so much safer. Maybe he'll be happier."  
  
"Yeah, right." Said Blaise sarcastically as he stood, suddenly angry again and therefore stupid as well. "Maybe he'll be happy. Maybe you'll be a coward, maybe you'll be a bastard for taking away his choice, maybe this isn't up to you! Close the door on him if you need to but don't lock it, let him in if he wants that. Don't lock him out, he needs you too fucking much. And if you force him away you'll be hurting him more than his father. He loves you!"  
  
"No," said Harry softly as his eyes bled back to green. His voice was tired and hoarse. "First of all it would be 'loved' as in the past test and second he never did."  
  
"He told me he did."  
  
"I don't care what he told you. Leave, go, just get out of here. I'm sick of this topic and I won't defend myself to you. I have bigger fish to fry."  
  
"But I'm supposed to take you to the castle."  
  
"I'll come later, there are things I need to do before leaving the muggle world. Get. Out."  
  
Blaise left, afraid of his friend. He shouldn't have accused him of not loving Draco, it had been stupid. They all had their own ways of coping. But he was still disgusted that Harry was just going to act as though he and Draco were nothing more than acquaintances. He shut the door behind him, he apparated to Hogsmeade, and took the floo route int the Three Broomsticks to get back to school. As he arrived in Dumbledore's office he just shook his head at the expectant man. The favored son hadn't returned home.  
  
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Harry was on edge. His eyes were a ticking time bomb. The very minute the door shut behind Blaise he burst into tears. He had prayed, damn it. He hadn't prayed since he was six years old, he hadn't asked the higher powers for anything. He fought in their war. But they couldn't even take care of a boy? His boy.  
  
And he offered every thing to them, he offered his own life, legs, sanity. All he asked in return was that they watched over his Draco. And did they? No, because they knew Harry would fight for them no matter what. It wasn't fair, he got his hands dirty killing their enemies, and they didn't even have the good grace to protect Harry's love. He know, in theory, that they were all expendable. He was the only one who could kill Voldemort, everyone else could die, they weren't important. But how was he supposed to do their work without his lifelines? Hermione, Cho, Ginny they had all been taken from him, Sirius, his parents, Cedric. Well he was done doing their bidding they could give him his Co back or they could go hang themselves. Co would get his memories back or they would have to find a new champion, a second boy who subsisted. Silently, he screamed the warning while looking at the ceiling. No words came from his mouth but he knew he didn't have to speak aloud for them to understand his anger.  
  
He felt so petty though, his lover was alive and well. Did it matter that he didn't remember Harry? Was Harry just being a selfish git? Maybe it was true, maybe Draco could be happy in a new life. Maybe he was lying to himself. He had tried to take the high road. He had tried to say that he would let Draco go. That Draco no longer had to be connected to him and his freak-ness. He had made an attempt at being the big man, it was his way of promising not to hurt his boy again.  
  
He didn't want to be an over emotional girl. You see those muggle girls at the train station. Their lover is leaving, perhaps he's going back to his wife. And these girls cling to the man's lapels and cry. And it doesn't make anything better, it doesn't make the man stay. He has to go home, his son is turning five and he promised his wife he would be there. So in the end the girl gets nothing, the guy feels guilty, and Timmy's daddy is ten minutes late and has missed the jelly and custard. Harry didn't want to make Draco feel guilty.  
  
It wasn't Draco's fault that he couldn't remember the dark boy. But Harry know him and knew that Draco would feel guilty if he knew. He would feel that he had let Harry down. And then Draco would grow resentful that Harry knew the old him while he himself did not. He wanted Draco to be happy and safe. And what did he get in return? An empty bed, a stranger, and a best friend who thought he was a selfish cowardly bastard.  
  
"I wish you were here, Sirius." He whispered, "You always knew what to do. . . no you didn't, but you always helped me to figure it out in the end. I need a adult." A bitter laugh fell out of his mouth, stunted and angry. He could kill twelve dozen people but he still wanted a parent.  
  
And as a sob escaped him his mirror shattered. He had picked up the mirror in Diagon Alley as it was the only mirror he ever met that didn't comment on his hair, or make fun of him when he wore eyeliner for Draco. The voice of a thirty year old man emanated from the broken glass, "Fuck man, that hurt."  
  
"I'm so sorry," sobbed Harry but the mirror was pretty sure that the apology wasn't for him.  
  
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"Where's Harry?" asked Dumbledore after a moment of hesitation.  
  
"He's packing and will come in his own sweet time," said Blaise with muted anger, he knew he had been out of line. But how dare that *boy* decide what was best for Draco? "Cun-"  
  
"A word, Mr. Zabini?" asked Snape successfully cutting off his ward's fowl mouth. He dragged the boy outside and said softly with a smirk, "So have you and our mighty hero had a falling out?" Blaise told him in an malicious current of words all that had happened in Privet Drive. His vitriolic litany had more words therein than Severus had ever heard from the boy. Snape stopped smiling, 'Dear god, I'm sympathizing with Harry Blood Potter. Don't you see? He's being adult." Severus felt sick. "He's being *righteous*." A shudder ran through him as the word soured on his tongue. His mind needed purging if he was siding with a Gryffindor over a child from his own house.  
  
"How can you say that?! Harry is the key to unlocking Drake's memories!"  
  
"Yes, he is," Severus gave a small smile, "so you're going to do what we Slytherins do best and make sure that Draco knows the truth by the end of the day."  
  
"What we do best?"  
  
"Connive," Severus said as though it was as obvious as the nose on his face. "Oh," he said slowly as his visage went sullen again, "you should apologize to Potter." He shuddered again at the idea of a Slytherin supplicating himself to Dumbledore's golden boy. Then he thought of Draco in the context and tried to convince himself that the mental pictures weren't appealing. "It would make Draco happy, and you and Potter are. . . friends," he said finally and walked back into the office with the student hot on his heels.  
  
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"You realize of course that you are setting the world's record for slowest packing job ever, right?"  
  
"Of course I had to buy a smart-arse mirror." Muttered Harry as he gathered his things up and placed them in his trunk. Harry looked at the mirror and the veins of the broken bled together and healed the pane.  
  
"Thanks, though that was illegal. But so is most of what you've done over the last few weeks. The sooner you pack the sooner we see our boy."  
  
"You are the only possessive mirror I've ever met. I feel blessed." He said dryly as he slammed the lid shut and stood slowly, "I am so scared."  
  
The mirror just sighed, it had no reply for that. 


	3. 3

Title: Alliances 3/?

D/H, R, angst and child abuse, spoilers for OotP

Other notes in chapter 1.

Thanks to everyone for the feedback.

Blame the lack of updates on Finals and papers and grading my kids for report cards. Being a teacher at the school you attend is a v. bad idea.

* * *

He apparated without saying goodbye to his supposed family. They were probably grateful. From Hogsmeade he floo-ed directly into the common room of the Gryffindor tower. He sank into a comfy chair and charmed his stuff to go up to his room. A light weight fell on his shoulder and he turned to look at the owl that was suddenly seated there. He took the letter that it held in its beak and absently stroked the creature. He didn't enjoy Owl post anymore. It just reminded him of his loss; it reminded him of an owl how would never bring him another letter. Hedwig was just another casualty of the war. He opened the letter and smiled tiredly as he read. 

"Harry,

I'm sorry for being a prat earlier. I'm tired and I took my anger out on you. I know you're trying to do as you see fit. The oldies want you in Dumbledore's office. Co is here. Please come, Harry, don't cut off your nose to spite your face. I can't imagine how hard this is for you. 

Blaise"

Sighing, Harry stood and walked out of the tower and down to Dumbledore's office. He realized that they didn't realize he was there and so the secret doorway door was locked. Without knowing the password he started going through a litany of new muggle sweets. He went through every new sweet he could think of and then started in on the best of the old ones, alphabetically. When he got to the "W's" he hit gold with "walnut whips". He walked as slowly as he could up the revolving staircase. He wanted to get to the top but dreaded it at the same time. 

At the top he was met head on by the gaze of grey eyes. "Ah, do come in," said Dumbledore and Harry instantly broke eye contact with Draco and walked in the room. "Sit down." He gestured to the spot on the couch next to Draco. "I'm sure you know why you've been called back early?"

"Yes, professor." Harry said keeping the shake out of his voice. He held his hands in his lap so that he wouldn't stroke Draco's hair. 

"So we can skip the introduction," said Snape who was desperate to get this over with. 

Rolling his eyes Harry turned to Draco with a small smile, "Hi."

Recognition flared up in Draco's eyes and Harry felt as though he were flying. Draco remembered him! But then the smiling boy said, "Hi. I'm sure we know each other but I'm Draco Malfoy," He put his hand out and Harry felt as though he'd been kicked in the stomach.

"Harry Potter." Harry grasped Draco's hand firmly. Their first touch in over two months made Harry feel worse than he had when he'd been longing for it. He didn't think he could feel any worse than he did at this moment.

"Wow, the boy who lived?" Draco's eyes gleamed, "I'm friends with the boy who lived?!"

How typical of Draco to prove Harry wrong, for indeed, Harry felt much more unhappy now. "Draco," Blaise said, "You and Harry can catch up later. Right now let's go and unpack your stuff." Blaise shot an apologetic look at Harry and left him alone with the teachers. Dumbledore, McGonagall, Snape, and Madam Pomfrey watched him as if waiting for him to burst into tears. He refused to cry in front of them.

"So, what's the prognosis? We treating this like any head trauma?" The group had received quite a few concussions over the course of the war. "No strenuous activity? Conditioning? Does he go back into his old life in hopes of triggering a memory? And, hey, let me guess, 'he could regain his memory at any time but the more time that goes by the less chance of his ever regaining them,' right?"

"Yes." The mediwitch said softly. 

"So can I go?" he asked and stood.

Dumbledore and McGonagall exchanged looks and the teachers left the head of school alone with the irate young man. "Please sit down, Harry."

"I'd rather stand." He and the old man had never been the same since Sirius' death. Harry never forgave him for the insensate words he had used when trying to comfort the boy. Harry had realized then that Dumbledore viewed the children as cannon fodder. He had lost his godfather and grandfather in a week.

"Ok. Draco has been resorted into Gryffindor."

"Did the loss of his past change him that much?" Harry was worried about his boy and had to ask despite his dislike for the man.

"No, nothing like that he's still our Co but his housemates would eat him alive."

Harry knew this to be true but he was focused on another part of the sentence, "Not our Co. My Co. He doesn't belong to you, or the Order, or the fucking cause. He's out of the loop and you'd best remember that."

Dumbledore smiled but his eyes held no shine, "Of course you're right."

"You know he won't be welcome in Gryffindor."

"I know, that's why he's in your room."

"My room? I sleep with the others."

"The Head Boy gets his own room," He handed Harry a letter telling him that he was the Head Boy, giving him a pin with HB on it, and listing off his new school books. "Professor Snape will take the three of you tomorrow to buy your books."

Looking up from the letter Harry said, "Well you'll excuse me if I'm not over enthused." He thought about Draco in his bedroom and said, "You didn't by any chance set this up so that I would fuck the memories into him did you?"

"Is there any need to be so crass?" asked Dumbledore effectively ignoring the question.

"You can't play this to your advantage and once you realize that, it will make all of this easier." 

* * *

"I suppose you'll like being up in the tower. More sunlight, less backstabbing, Harry." Said Blaise as they walked along the corridor. 

"I can't believe I'm friends with Harry Potter."

"Yeah," said Blaise slowly, "You might not want to bring that up again. Harry doesn't like being the boy who lived, especially lover his own lover." His face went suddenly ashen.

"Lover?" asked Draco look confused, "We. . . he and I?"

"Forget I said that. Please." Blaise was proud of the desperate note in his words, huzzah for being a slimy Slytherin. "He'd kill me. It would be better if you just pretend to have no knowledge of it."

Studying the boy who had been introduced to him as his best friend Draco said softly, "Ok."

"He loves you, Draco, remember that." 

"He loves me?"

"More than life itself," Blaise said honestly. He hoped that Harry wouldn't be mad, he just wanted his two friends back together. Familiarity could get Draco's memories back. And Harry was Draco's anchor, his rock, even if neither of them realized that. As they reached the portrait of the fat lady Blaise asked, "Do you know the password?"

Draco cocked an eyebrow and looked down at the Velcro trainers on his feet. "I can't even learn to tie my shoes, how likely do you think it is that I would know the password?"

"Actually," interrupted the lady, "There isn't a password yet. The Head Boy needs to tell me it."

"So can we get in? Blaise asked.

"Not without the password!" she said looking scandalized. 

* * *

That was how Harry found them twenty minutes later. The pair were sitting on the floor arguing with the woman. Once, when he was much younger, he had thought of a lot of passwords hoping that one day he would get the chance to use them. Now his mind went blank. "Um," 

"Harry, dear," said the woman, "Come up with something."

"Um. . . bedlamominou ," said Harry as it was the only thing he could think of at that moment.

"As in the base of the memory potion?" asked the woman for clarification. 

"Exactly, it's the fungus that grows on a borroboar's stomach. . ." He smiled tiredly, "It's also fun to say." 

The trio walked up to the boy's dorms. At the end of the hall was a door with "HB" written on it. The door had been there in all pervious years but it had always been a laundry closet with clean towels. Harry opened the door with a key the headmaster had given him. There were two large, curtained, canopy beds. Their trunks were already at the feet of their beds and there was tea, sandwiches, and chips on a small table with three chairs.

"Draco? Would you be ok by yourself for five minutes? I was a prime arse this morning and need to apologize to Blaise alone." Harry glanced at his watch. Remus had sent it to him for his birthday. It looked like a muggle digital watch except. . . not. The watch face told you what time it was and what time it would be next. Right then the face read, "NOW: Talk to Blaise, NEXT: Eat with Co, LATER: Time for head trauma victims and their broken lovers to go to bed."

"I'll be fine." Was the simple reply as Draco turned to sort through his chest. Just as they left he caught Blaise's eye and the Slytherin knew that he and Harry would be followed.

* * *

"I'm sorry," they both said at once. 

"I shouldn't have been such an arse," said Harry.

"I shouldn't have accused you of not caring," was the reply.

"I thought he knew me when he first looked at me."

"I think he fakes it," said Blaise, "he did the same to me. I think he sees that we hope he knows us so he plays along for a minute."

"I nearly died," Harry's voice hitched, "God, and then I just wanted to shake him when he introduced himself. But you don't shake people with head trauma. Right?" Blaise nodded, "I so badly wanted to just hold him when they started to try and discuss him while he was in the room."

"I could see that, that's why we left."

"Thanks." They said nothing for a while and then Harry said, "I lost my temper with Dumbledore. He told me I was HB and I asked if he'd done it so that I would fuck Draco's memories into place." Blaise winched at the harsh note Harry used, "The man didn't even have the good grace to deny it. He thought I would take advantage of my own fucking lover who doesn't know me from fucking Adam. Bleeding Christ!" He dropped his head into his hands so that his friend wouldn't see the tears.

"I hate to say it again, but I still think you should tell him."

Without looking up from his hands Harry muttered, "The very last thing he needs is someone else putting pressure on him. He doesn't need some moron mooning over him. Maybe he'll fall in love with me, maybe he'll get his memories back and realize that I was the worst thing he ever did, maybe Voldemort will hit the school tomorrow and we'll all be dead by teatime. I don't know, all I do know is that he doesn't need to know about us, it'll only upset him. He'll think he needs to remember me, or that he needs to do something for me to win my friendship, or he'll hate me for reminding him of a past he might not ever know. I can't knowingly add to his stress. I love him, damn me."

"I'm so sorry, Har."

"I am too. Now let's get back to him?"

Draco stood open mouthed around the corner. Blaise hadn't being lying. The boy was pining for him. Guilt swept over Draco at the thought of all the pain he had put Harry through. His lover. Lover. He turn tailed and got back to the room before the others. When they entered he was wearing silk PJ pants and eating a chip. 


	4. 4

Title: Alliances 4/?  
  
D/H, R, angst and child abuse, spoilers for OotP  
  
Other notes in chapter 1.  
  
Thanks to everyone for the feedback.

* * *

It was late at night when the soft voice came through the darkness. Harry had been lying in bed; considering his day. He was trying to make a list of "pros" the list was short. It consisted of the facts that Draco was alive, he and Blaise were ok, and that he'd pretty much told Dumbledore to fuck off. There endeth the list. He could hear the soft breathing from the other bed and wanted so badly to go and watch Draco but he wasn't sure how deep of a sleeper the boy was after his dad beat him into a coma.  
  
"Harry?" Draco whispered unsure if the dark boy was awake.  
  
Suddenly Harry was so pleased he hadn't gone over to watch his love. "I'm awake."  
  
He heard shuffling and then Draco was standing above him. Harry's eyes dilated at the moon light suddenly in his eyes as Draco pulled the curtain back. "This is fucking ridiculous. I have this psychosis, you see, ever since I've woken up I've had what they call hysterical coldness flashes. I'm not running a temperature but I'm really fucking cold and I can't make myself believe that I'm not. They weren't sure whether I hit my head some way that's made it happen or if I just fear being alone. . . Christ, this is embarrassing. The only way I can warm up is to be close to someone. I know that this is really weird but-"  
  
Harry moved over and held up the duvet, "It's not weird, we used to share a bed all the time."  
  
Draco stood still, "We did?"  
  
"You'd be here late and you'd just end up staying over as opposed to sneaking through the castle and possibly being caught by Filch, groundskeeper, an evil man who enjoys tormenting students." Harry was speaking the truth he had just carefully omitted the reason why Draco was there in the first place, because they'd been shagging for hours.  
  
"So we were good friends?" asked Draco as he shut the curtain behind himself and came to rest at Harry's side. They were both on their backs looking at the canopy.  
  
"Friends? No. There was a war and we were on the same side so we grew close. We were partners and we had each other's backs but we weren't friends. Too different I guess." He heard Draco's teeth chattering and he used it as an excuse to pull the blond close. Draco put the top of his head against Harry's chest and sniffed. "Are you ok?"  
  
Draco looked up, away from the direction of their feet and smiled slightly. "I woke up with pneumonia from pulmonary. . . I can't remember, something to do with fluids in my lungs. The only potion they had for it left me with an incurable muggle cold, it's un-catching to others and "has to run its course." It's a pain. I told them to use a Dreeda potion but they didn't pay attention to coma-boy."  
  
Harry smiled. Of course Draco would have thought of the one potion that would easily cured him. He was always so fucking proud of his clever lover, "I'll make you something for it in the morning."  
  
"No potion can cure it," Draco said darkly.  
  
"No, but soup is always good." Harry smiled, "Go to sleep."  
  
After a long time of laying still Draco placed his ear near to Harry's mouth. He felt the slow deep breaths and asked softly, "Harry?"  
  
"Em?" came the noncommittal reply from the sleeping boy.  
  
"How long have we been together?"  
  
"Year and a half. Why, Co?" came the soft answer it was clear that Harry was very much asleep. Harry's arms tightened around Draco's waist.  
  
"Just thinking. . . You love me?" Harry's eyes shot open and Draco knew he was screwed.  
  
"Get the fuck out of my bed." Harry pulled his arms from around Draco's waist. "You earwig on my private conversations and make up fictional sickness to get into my bed to embarrass me? Fuck you. It amazes me how you can get beaten into a coma, wake up without a memory and yet still play these fucking games of yours. They aren't cute." He turned away from the blond. "Just be fucking glad you've got a head injury or I'd be beating the shite out of you."  
  
"I didn't make up being cold. And I needed to know the truth. Would you have given it to me if I had asked? I didn't mean to upset you."  
  
"Oh," said Harry coldly, "Fine, go back to your bed."  
  
"I'm cold," whispered Draco.  
  
"No one ever died of hysterical coldness. I want to be alone in my bed if I can't be alone in my room." As Harry rolled back over Draco could see the glassy sheen on his eyes.  
  
"Please?" He begged as he inched towards to boy who lived. Harry put one hand on his chest and kept him away.  
  
"Get out of my bed and go to sleep." His words were even and cold as the tears fell silently down his face. He wasn't going to let Draco see him cry.  
  
Draco sat up and moved to the edge of the bed as he swung his legs over the side he said softly, "I'm sorry, Harry, I didn't mean to hurt you." He stood up and walked to his own bed and said, "I just wanted to know if I belonged somewhere. I don't know where I am or how to do even the simplest things. And I don't know who I can trust or rely on and then I found out that my own lover was hiding things from me." He sighed as he got under his sheets. His teeth chattered as he spoke. "I was scared. And I just wanted to know if I had ever had someone who had taken care of me. I can remember parts of it. . . I remember him kicking me, calling me a traitor because I had fought in the war. And I remember my seventh birthday when I cried because the pony at my party bit me and he beat me and told me that Malfoys didn't cry. And I remember getting my acceptance letter to Hogwarts and being so pleased because I thought he'd be proud, all he said was that if I brought him shame he would kill me. I just," he paused for a long time and then whispered with tears in his voice, "wanted to know if I'd ever been loved. Wanted to be held, 'cause I'm cold and scared. I'm sorry. It was selfish."  
  
Stunned Harry instantly stopped crying. Never in all the time he had known Draco had the boy ever talked so candidly about his family. He had never told Harry anything. Had shouted when Harry asked him about scars on his body. Had made up excuse for each mark marring his skin. If Draco was to be believed then his father would have been next in line for Dad of the Year Award. But the blond boy in the bed didn't know that he was supposed to be fiercely loyal to the man, all he knew was that the bastard who beat him into a coma and tormented his childhood was his father. Clearly he thought that the stories he had just told were already known to Harry. He didn't know he was supposed to love his father. And in all their time together Draco had never apologized for anything. Once he had broken Harry's arm in three places during a Quidditch game and later, when Harry suggested that it might be nice if Draco said sorry, the blond had sneered and said he would not apologize for Harry's innate clumsiness. Draco never admitted self doubt or that he was confused or scared yet here and now he was laying it on the line. And the only times Draco cried were when he was near fatally wounded. So to hear this speech confused and scared Harry.  
  
Silently he stood and crossed over to Draco's bed. Pulling back the curtains he spoke softly, "Budge over, there's no room." He slid under the covers and pulled Draco close to himself, holding the blond's hips. "I'm here now, no more crying. Ask me anything you want to know."  
  
"Were we in love?" asked Draco softly as he rested his head against Harry's shoulder.  
  
Harry sighed, of course Draco had to ask a difficult question, "I don't know."  
  
"How can you not know?" asked Draco sounding hurt, as though he thought Harry was avoiding the question.  
  
"I love you with everything I am. But I don't know how you felt."  
  
"You never asked?"  
  
Laughing Harry said, "I did but you always told me that you would never love a loser like me. But you might have been lying, you don't wear your heart on your sleeve. You guard yourself."  
  
Draco sighed, "Blaise was telling me about the pranks we used to do and about what we did with our time. . . I was a cunt. And now you say that I couldn't even be honest about love? Why does anyone want to be around me?"  
  
Harry had to force himself not to laugh. His arrogant self- assured lover had just called himself a cunt. This was all too much like a pantomime for his taste, "Because under your, "I'm such a bastard stay three feet back," veneer you are a good, brave man. I don't love you 'cause you have a pretty face." Harry laughed softly, "I can't explain it. You've risked your life to save people you hate purely to prove that you aren't your father, that you don't want to be him, that you weren't on that side. You cheat at petty things like chess and then get all righteous when things actually become serious. You made me so proud because everyone thought you were a spy for the other side but you stayed. Everyone treated you with nothing but contempt and yet you still stayed by my side. I was so scared and you just sneered at me, and called me a wuss, and held my hand when no one was looking. I love you."  
  
Silence descended upon them before Draco said, "I still don't get it."  
  
"With time you will." Harry ran his finger's through blond hair, "Is this ok? You warmer now, Co?"  
  
Nodding slightly the Slytherin yawn, "You're making me warm. . . that's the second time someone's called me that."  
  
"I's just a nickname, the Slytherins call you Dray or Drake and you father calls you Dragon so I made up one that they hadn't given you. Go to sleep, I'm right here now." Draco nodded but stayed still for a moment thinking. With a soft laugh Harry said, "Suck your thumb, it's ok, I know." Draco looked at him with questioning eyes. "We've been going out for a year and a half, I was bound to know a few of your secrets." 


	5. 5

Title: Alliances 5/?

D/H, R, angst and child abuse, spoilers for OotP

Lucius beats his son into a coma. When Draco wakes up he doesn't remember anything, not even his lover.

Thanks to everyone for the feedback.

* * *

Harry was half asleep when Draco threw open the curtains and practically jumped on top of him. He had blood running down his face but he didn't seem to notice or care. "Harry! Wake up!"

"You're bleeding. You hurt your head, that's not good. You have a head injury."

"I'm fine!" Draco shook his head and blood splattered over Harry's sheets. "I was walking by the lake and I slipped. I hit my head. And I remembered! All of it." He slid onto Harry's lap. And the blond slowly rubbed himself against his lover. "Forgive me? I've been an idiot. I've always loved you. Please, Har-"

Harry couldn't help but be thrilled as Draco spoke and then a voice broke into their talk, "Harry?" He looked around but saw no one and then the voice spoke again. It was Draco's own voice. But Draco was sitting on his lap smiling. And Harry's own happiness ebbed away.

"This isn't real." He spoke with certainness. "This is a dream."

Draco studied him for a moment before saying. "Don't wake up." He never ceased rubbing against Harry. "I love you; he doesn't. Stay here with me. You've tried so hard. You deserve a reward."

"You aren't real. I have to wake up. He needs me!" Harry tried to push Dream Draco off his lap. Hurt flashed across the fake Draco's face that looked so real it caused Harry to feel guilty. The dark boy pulled the dream version of his lover back more firmly onto his lap. The blond was still rocking against him. Harry loathed his body for reacting but couldn't stop. "I love you, Draco. But you are only a dream. Let me go back to the real you. Let me prove I love you. If I stay here I won't really be helping you at all."

"Please! He doesn't even know you. He doesn't want you. I do." He kissed Harry on the mouth. Draco's breath was becoming short as he moved against Harry. And Harry himself could hardly think. "Your Draco never does that. Didn't he say it was too intimate? And now he doesn't even know that does he? He just figures he can't cross some line by kissing you. But I can." And with that they both came violently.

Harry had tears rolling down his cheeks. "This is only my mind. You aren't anything other than my mind. I need to wake up." He pushed the dream version of his lover off of his body. He looked at the boy who was also crying. "You're just pretend. But I'm still sorry. Because even though you're not real I still feel like I'm abandoning you for someone else. And thank you: I know you're trying to help. I know it would be so easy and nice to stay here with you. Getting kissed, and held, and fucked into oblivion, and being told that I'm loved. But I do love the real you and I need to go back. Even if he, the real you, doesn't know or love me. Because I love him. So now I'm apologizing to and thanking my own mind. And I must be going crazy." He kissed the boy on the lips, "Thank you."

* * *

Harry was screaming his name. It was starting to freak Draco out. So he approached the bed slowly, "Harry?" he asked but Harry didn't respond. He threw the bed curtain back and studied the sleeping boy. Reaching out he went to shake the boy awake. But the minute he touched Harry's skin he was pulled into the dark boy's mind. He watched the dream unfold and stood dumfounded. And when the dream ended he found himself sitting on the edge of Harry's bed looking into blue eyes.

Shaking his head Harry's eyes reverted to green and he said softly. "You shouldn't really touch me when I'm sleeping. I'm a natural mage and my body lets off excess magic while I sleep to get rid of some of it. That can do some weird stuff to a conscious body: Like pulling them into my dreams. I'm sorry. Everybody, including you yourself, have been putting so much pressure on you to remember stuff. And I tried so hard to not add to that."

"You've been doing a good job," assured Draco. "I don't understand why you love him." He'd been saying that a lot over past days as people told him stories about his old life.

Sighing Harry said, "I wish you wouldn't refer to yourself in the third person. Stories don't do you justice. You're a good person, no matter what."

"He wouldn't even kiss you, Harry," they were both aware of how low the blow was and neither tried to speak. Finally Draco said, "I don't understand. That's the main reason I want my memories. I want to know how you ever saw any good in me."

In a brittle, snappy, tone Harry said, "Don't stress on my account. Heaven forbid you get your memories back for yourself!"

Harry's sarcasm cut through Draco and he spoke softly and deliberately. He chose his pronoun carefully when he said, "From everything I've heard so far: I treated you like a whore and you thought of me as your boyfriend. So honestly wouldn't you want to distance yourself from that? Wouldn't you want to understand it?"

"You didn't treat me like a whore. You wouldn't kiss or tell me that you loved me. But you went to a muggle movie theater and held my hand in a scary film. You'd laugh at stupid jokes I told. You cried in front of me, which I don't even think Blaise has seen since you were little. You switched sides in a bloody war for me." He swallowed when he realized that he was rambling and more slowly he said, "Think about the little things you do remember from your childhood. Do you really think you would blithely give away your love? I don't know if you loved me. And it doesn't really matter, because you made me happy and safe. Everyone expects me to die for the cause. But you," he rolled his eyes at his own corniness, "You expected me to live in spite of it. You said I had to stop being a moony git, put aside writing my will, and go to bed with you."

"I did?" asked Draco somewhat wondrously. It was the first explanation anyone had given him that had even slightly made sense.

Nodding Harry said, "It was quite a good speech actually." He patted the bed next to him and said softly, "You look tired, the effects of residual magic can do that."

"I've had a thought," said Draco as he fell back against the bed next to Harry. "I want my memories back, school's starting in three days and I don't want to be the only person who doesn't really know me. You said you'd do anything to help me," Harry nodded remembering the talk he had had with Draco a few days before. "I want to sleep with you. They keep saying that old familiarity will help." Harry pulled up the covers to let Draco slide under, "No," he said softly blushing, "I meant that I want to go to bed with you." Harry dropped the covers and just studied Draco's face unable to reply.

* * *

Voldemort laughed, "How sweet. He thought it was his own dream." Lucius stood at his master's elbow sneering as he watched the dream play out on the mirror. "Well that is useful. I thought you foolish when you did not kill your son while you had the chance. But, oh, how grand. Harry Potter has a very simple weakness: your son." He cackled with joy at his skillful manipulation. He had skimmed the boy's insecurities, placed them into the vesicle of a dream version of the boy's lover, and watched as Potter fell to pieces.


	6. 6

Title: Alliances 6/?

D/H, R, angst and child abuse, spoilers for OotP

Lucius beats his son into a coma. When Draco wakes up he doesn't remember anything, not even his lover.

For jameschick, happy birthday. Sorry it's a little late!!!

Cultural note: mucky in this context mean dirty/kinky

* * *

Harry just studied the other boy for a long moment. Draco had no idea what he was truly asking for. Sighing Harry finally spoke, "I did promise to help you no matter what. So I'll do this. But I need sometime. Ok?"

Anger and vindication suddenly filled Draco and he felt as though some credence was finally been given to his belief that he and the old Draco were separate beings. "Because I'm not him, your lover, you'll be cheating and you need time to come to terms with it." Draco's words were so bitter and sure that Harry felt his stomach eating itself.

His body responded to Draco's anger. His own words were short and irritated as he practically hissed at the boy, "No. Because you are "him" and when I look in your eyes I see my lover. But I see that you don't know me. I don't see some fucking stranger, it wouldn't be difficult to go to bed with you if that were the case. I just see you, Draco, and it's ripping me apart. There's not even the slightest spark of recognition in your eyes. And to have you making love to me while you don't even know me is going to hurt."

Still mad Draco said, "Well he didn't love you so how will this be any different?!"

He wasn't hitting a nerve, he was tap dancing on it. "Because," Harry said through gritted teeth, "at least when you knew me I could believe that I had seen love in your eyes." He stood abruptly, "I'm going for a walk."

* * *

After pulling on some clothes Draco had left the empty tower. He sauntered into the Slytherin common room still put out over the fight and saw Blaise reading in a darkish corner. Without preamble he explained to his friend what had happened. Once Draco had finished Blaise placed his book in his lap and clasped his hands over it. He was never one to speak with thinking and so he spoke with a measured and slow lilt to his voice, "When your dad hit you, how many times did your brain hit your skull?You're your IQ go down? Are you under 70 points now? I mean, you asked him to fuck, placed your recovery firmly on his shoulders, he didn't deny you, and you acted like a self-righteous prick when he explained why he was afraid? If you had your memories I would congratulate you on your best mind fuck to date. As it is I think you're an idiot." He sighed, "I did something sort of similar though. When I told him you had no memories he said that you would be safe and that it was the best possible outcome because at least you would be able to walk. I accused him of not loving you. And he really bared himself to me while explaining how much he felt for you. And I didn't stop attacking him. It's a miracle he didn't hex me into the next world." With a slight smile he said, "Go find him and don't get angry!"

* * *

The dark haired boy was sitting by the lake. He stared into the gloomy water. Draco silently sat down next to him, not too close. He placed his hand on the ground between them. "I told you once that I would always protect you. You laughed," said Harry not looking at the blond.

"I'm sorry about before. But I can promise you one thing, I never meant to get lost. I think- I think I was in love with you. And I think I've fallen in love with you again."

"You've only known me for two weeks."

"Do you honestly think that matters?" He sounded so hurt and Harry didn't want to upset Draco.   
Calmly he asked, "Why do you think that you loved me?"

"I wouldn't have slept with you otherwise." Harry just looked at him, waiting for more of an answer. "I read my old journals, they weren't very useful. They don't talk about anything real, no thoughts, just events. A lot of it's in code. But I just a few things out of it." He looked at the water, "You were my first. It was too important. I might not know my past but I know how my mind works. Must have loved you. I'm sorry that I asked you to sleep with me. It was stupid and hurtful. I've been taking to Blaise a lot. He told me that you were afraid to be with me for fear I got hurt. But please, don't dump me. I'm in love with you. And I'm scared about everyone coming back and not knowing them. So just stay with me?" He looked at Harry. And he looked so damn young and scared.

Harry reached out and took Draco's hand. Of course he hadn't known that Draco was a virgin. And he suddenly had a little more faith in what they had had. He loved the boy, always had, always would. And now it was time to try and help him. "Not going anywhere. Love you." He raised their linked hands and kissed Draco's knuckles. "Come to bed?"

"Harry, we don't need to-"

"No," Harry smiled, "We don't need to do anything. There's no pressure. Do you think it would help?"

Draco sighed, "I don't know. I grasping at straws. I don't care about most of it. I don't care to remember getting beaten by my dad or miserable family trips. I want to remember you. And no," he put his free hand out to stop Harry from speaking, "I'm not doing this to please you. I'm doing this for me. I want to stop second guessing all my actions. Sometimes I feel like I'm living someone else's life. I was looking at pictures of us and I felt like it was all pretend somehow. Like the real Draco might burst in at any moment and tell me to leave. I want to stop feeling like I'm stealing you attention from someone else. Like we don't really know each other and are playing at being together."

Smiling sadly Harry nodded, and then brightened considerably, "Well then, come upstairs and know me." With a slight smirk that was filled with warmth and happiness as opposed to smug pride Draco leaned over and kissed Harry gently. Reluctantly Harry pulled away after a few moments. "We have to do this right if you want your memories back. We can't kiss on the mouth. It has to be like it used to be. Next time it can be all different if you like, but just this once it has to be like this." He smiled slightly, "You can think of it as some sort of mucky game. You always got off on those." Draco scrunched up his nose and Harry just laughed and kissed the blond's nose.


	7. 7

Title: Alliances 7?

D/H, R, angst and child abuse, spoilers for OotP

Lucius beats his son into a coma. When Draco wakes up he doesn't remember anything, not even his lover.

Cultural note: poof is an insulting word for a gay man.

* * *

Draco was nervous. What if he was rubbish and Harry didn't want him afterwards? What if it didn't work? Would Harry be disappointed with him? What if he got all his memories back right in the middle of things and threw up all over his lover? What if he wasn't like the old Draco in bed and it made Harry go all morose? He wanted to be perfect for Harry and wanted to make Harry glad that he hadn't dumped Draco. But all his thoughts made him more worried. They had gone back up to the tower and Harry had been kissing his neck in a comforting way for the whole trip.

Pulling away Draco spoke softly, "I want to go take a shower: clean off the grime of the day."

"Ok," Harry smiled. Draco had taken a bath after supper but he wasn't going to push him into anything. "I'll take one too."

The Head Boy's toilet was even nicer than the prefects' loo. The bathtub was sunk into the floor and had steps leading down into it, its depth ranged from a foot to 12 feet with a diving board at the deep end. The two showers each had 10 showerheads and were capable of spraying six different types of foamy water at the bather for practically every angle. Harry turned his back as they undressed to allow Draco some privacy. The slight gasp he heard made him want to turn around but he dutifully kept his back to the blond boy.

"Draco, you look fine," said the mirror, "Draco," it called again, "No one cares."

Draco looked into the mirror with confusion as Harry moved to look at the boy, "What's wrong?"

The blond ran his hands over his skin, "I don't remember these. Are they new? God, they're so ugly. How can you want me?"

Scars stood out even paler than his naturally pallid flesh. Harry ran a hand over the boy's shoulder. He traced a scar with his fingers. After a battle the mediwizards and witches were busy, Draco was told he would have to wait, people were in worse condition than he. But Harry could tell the boy was badly off so he'd apparated to a muggle wizard who had promptly drawn blood off the boy's lungs and opened him up to pin his badly broken clavicle, it had been a miracle that he hadn't drowned in his own blood. It had been the first of his many health miracles. "You're beautiful and strong."

Staring at the mirror Draco muttered, "Strongly disgusting."

Harry studied him for a moment and then dropped down to his knees in front of the blond,. Slowly, he mapped out the marks on his lover's stomach with his tongue. "Never disgusting," he promised, "just tasty and good." He paused over an old puncture mark on Draco's left hip and licked it so, so slowly, "That's my favourite."

"Why?" Draco asked, awed and panting at Harry's show.

"I put it there." Standing, he pointed to an identical scar on his own left hip. "We stabbed each other to throw off Voldemort. And then we patched each other up, came back here, and you made love to me for hours. It was brilliant. It was painful, and amazing, and we each lost close to a pint of blood. It was hot."

"You liked being stabbed," said Draco in a disbelieving voice.

"Only because it was you doing the stabbing," justified Harry, as though that somehow made it normal.

"We lost a pint of blood each but we still had sex?"

"You're insatiable," Harry laughed "And then we just stayed awake for the rest of the night while you bitched about how much pain you were in while I tried to tell you that it was a flesh wound." He smiled, "You're a total wuss about pain."

Draco smiled, "Yeah, I read in my diary about the hippogriff. But I milked that because I wanted to get kicked out of school. I hated it here, having to deal with you and your two friends. And then they nearly killed the thing."

"Yeah, Ron, Hermione, and me sort of set it loose."

"You did?" Draco laughed, "Those are your friends? I just wrote about "the trio" a lot, are they nice?"

Harry smiled slightly, "Well, 'Mione died, but she was great. And Ron, well, we're not really friends anymore."

Hearing the edge in his lover's voice Draco said, "Because of me? You shouldn't lose friends because of me."

"He gloated about your coma and practically went into mourning when you woke up. He's not my friend."

Draco watched as the boy folded into himself, "Does he know about us?"

"No," Harry shook his head, "Blaise is the only student who does. You wouldn't have been safe."

Draco studied him again and realized that the dark boy's body was as marred as his own, "What happened to you?" he asked as he ran his fingers over what looked like bad rope burn.

Smiling a little Harry said, "My uncle, your father, Voldemort. Lots of people wanted to have a go."

"Are my scars like that?"

"No," Harry sniffed and somehow Draco knew he was about to hear a joke, "My uncle's never touched you."

The blond asked gently, almost pleading, not wanting to face what he was being told, "Take me to bed?"

"Don't you want a shower?"

"Take me to bed."

Smiling, Harry dragged the boy towards the door as he kissed his pale wrist, "Beautiful." The bedroom was lit with hundreds of candles, behold the power of magic. Draco took in the sight for a moment and then proceeded to drag Harry towards the bed. "Missed you so badly," whispered the mage, "missed you inside of me."

Draco wondered if Harry had ever had him. Somehow, from reading his journal, he doubted it. He would never have trusted anyone to have that much control over him. But he wanted to give Harry that power. He trusted Harry completely, more than anyone he'd been reintroduced to since his coma. Now, however, was not the time for that. Pushing Harry on to the bed he asked, "Sure about this?"

Harry nodded and took Draco's shaking hands in his own. "I'm right here with you, Co, nothing's gonna go wrong." He pulled the boy onto the bed with him and the curtains closed around them with only a soft whisper from Harry, "Got to love wandless magic," he smirked. With a wandless cast Draco instantly prepared the dark boy. Harry gasped softly and wriggled beneath him, "You kept all that magic up there, didn't you?" He tapped his fingers on the blond's forehead.

"All of it," promised Draco with a gentle leer as he slowly slid inside the slight young man. Harry shut his eyes tightly but a tear escaped from under his lid even as he locked his ankles around Draco's waist. "Are you ok?"

"Fine."

"No, really, am I hurting you?"

"No,"

"Harry-"

"Just happy, ok?" he opened his eyes looking horribly embarrassed as he added, "I thought I lost you." He closed his eyes again.

Moving slowly and kissing the dark boy's eyelids Draco said, "You're absolutely stunning." Harry's eyes flew open and he looked shocked and pleased. And in that moment Draco almost didn't want his memories back. Because, without a shadow of a doubt, he knew that the old Draco had never said those words. He wanted to kill those memories and worship Harry; make him perfectly happy. What if he got the memories back and learned that Harry had just been a convenient fuck? What if, on top of never saying the words, he had never thought them? But then he thought of Harry's dream and he realized how badly he needed them.

"They'll never come if you force it," Harry's voice broke into his thoughts, "just enjoy this."

"Sorry," Draco smiled apologetically as Harry pulled him closer. Blunt nails bit into his back as they sped up a little.

"It's natural," said Harry as Draco attacked his collarbone, "oh Gods." He gasped and Draco doubled his efforts as he kissed, licked, and nipped any part of Harry that wasn't his mouth: He knew the rules. And when they came one after another it was wonderful and terrible all at once. It was like a little death, but not in the French sense. For, while Draco felt amazing and like he was coming home, he still didn't remember the dark boy. When Harry saw the disappointment in Draco's face he misread it, "It's been months, neither of us were bound to last long."

Frustrated, Draco shook his head, "No, Harry, it didn't work."

Biting his lip the boy studied him for a moment. "It was never a definite," he said cradling Draco's face. Draco saw the blood under Harry's nails. It acted as embarrassing proof as to what they'd done, more so even than the fact that he was still buried in the mage. He tried to look away but Harry held his face and held eye contact as he spoke, "We just need to come at it from another angle."

"Like from behind?" Draco joked weakly

Shaking his head Harry said, "Sex is out, this was all working off of the shock for an epiphany system. Which means," he leaned up a little, "I can do this." He kissed Draco full on the mouth, lovingly and slowly.

Draco pulled away from him slowly. Standing he said, "I want them back now. I don't want to wait things out and see. There's one thing left to do. I'm going to go find Madame Pomfrey."

"It's 4 AM. Come back here. It can wait another two hours."

Draco was frustrated, not angry but Harry's insensate words grated him. "Did he _used_ to stay with you? Him, the other me," he asked sarcastically.

Ignoring the tone, Harry acted as though it were a normal question. "It was the only part of sex that you actually let me have any control over. You said I was a total poof for wanting it but you always let me hold you."

"That is kinda poofish," agreed Draco as he clambered back into bed.

Harry rested his head on the boy's chest. "Just get a little sleep," said Harry as Draco pushed a sweaty lock of hair out of green eyes. Harry smiled at him.

"What?" asked Draco.

"I'm glad you're safe. I was scared. They wouldn't let me come to you at the hospital, they said it was too dangerous, that I would have been putting you in harm's way. That the death eaters wouldn't care about the presence of aurors when faced with the chance of getting us both. So I stayed away. And I was so scared that I was going to see you in a coffin the next time we met." He kissed the pale shoulder his head was resting on. "I swear I'll stop being a poof. Just gimme a minute."

"Take your time," said Draco happily as he stroked Harry's hair. "I think I kinda like this poof thing of yours," he said before he drifted off.


	8. 8

Title: Alliances 8?

D/H, R, angst and child abuse, spoilers for OotP

Lucius beats his son into a coma. When Draco wakes up he doesn't remember anything, not even his lover.

* * *

YawningDraco looked at Harry's watch. The face read, "NOW: 78 hours 'til the Locusts return. LATER: Even less time." He needed to find Madame Pomfrey. There were only 78 hours left until the students descended on the castle. He wanted his memories back and could only think of one way to do it: Borinthem's Prosfatem. The potion was dangerous. None had been brewed in close to a hundred years and it needed to be done by a woman. The potion was a volatile cure-all. It could fix anything that the imbiber wanted changed but only if the person had "pure motives." Pure meaning focused. If the drinker wanted to fix her ugly nose but also hated her thighs her legs were liable to fall off while her nose remained deformedly large. It was considered a poison because it could prove deadly to the unfocused mind.

But Draco had always been driven and focused. Desperation was fueling him now and he knew it would work. He knew his magic and his mind and knew that he was very capable of being single-minded. The problem would be in convincing Madame Pomfrey to brew the practically illegal serum. Softly he called Harry's name, "Harry? I have to go talk to Madame Pomfrey. Will you still be here in an hour?"

Harry looked at his watch tiredly. The face had changed and now said, "NOW: it's ten, you lazy bastard, get out of bed."

"No," said Harry as he shook his head, "I'm gonna go talk to Blaise. Meet me there later? Wait, do you want me to come with you?"

"No, I'm fine. I'll meet you. Harry?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for last night."

"No. Thank _you_. I'm sore in all the right places."

"I meant because you took such good care of me."

"Co, you don't need to thank me for that. Maybe for the amazing orgasm but not for being nice-ish."

"It wasn't nice-ish, you were. . . mine. And I felt safe. I was scared witless and you made me feel like I was in control."

"I just want you to be happy. I want you to be comfortable until you find your feet."

"Thank you." He leaned in and kissed his dark lover.

"Stop saying that!" Harry laughed, "Go to the infirmary. Find me when your done."

"I love you. I'll be at least an hour."

"I'll see you then."

* * *

A slow, warm shower was exactly what the medi-wizard ordered. He let the hot spray loosen the knots in his muscles as he slowly washed himself. After he turned the water off he stood in the steam just breathing for a few minutes before reaching for his wand to cast a drying spell.

"So I'm guessing last night didn't work."

"No," Harry sighed and smiled sadly at the mirror. "No one ever promised it would."

"I'm sorry, Har."

"He doesn't call me that." Draco had come up with the shortening once Harry had started calling him Co. The blond had expected that the pet name would annoy Harry and thus force the boy to stop calling him Co. But Harry had liked it. Outside of "boy" and "you" Harry had never had a nickname. Some people had called him Har in the past but they'd never substituted it for his name so completely as his Co did. Now even Remus generally addressed him as Har. When people called him by his lover's pet name it made him feel powerful as if the whole world knew who he belonged to. Of course, no one outside of a very select few knew who had christened him with the moniker.

"You look tired."

"I'm still having the dreams." He had realized that the Draco he spoke to nightly wasn't the product of his mind. He was too cutting, too demanding to be some figment of his own mind. Voldemort was fucking with him.

"Where's Co now?"

"Gone to investigate a way of getting his memories."

"Poor boy."

"Yeah."

"Why aren't you with him?"

"He didn't want me to go."

"Oh," said the mirror in a knowing voice.

"Yeah. I'm gonna go see Blaise."

"Harry?"

"Yeah?"

"He's gonna pull through."

"I hope so."

* * *

Blaise was still asleep in bed so Harry just climbed into it with him, "Wake up!" he spoke none to softly directly into Blaise's ear.

"'M wake!" he said groggily as he jumped up.

"Hi."

"What the fuck, Harry?"

"I wanted to talk to you."

"Where's yer boy?" he asked as he rubbed his eyes.

"Finding a cure for himself."

"So last night didn't work?"

"Does this whole fucking castle know we had sex last night!"

"Well if they didn't they do now. Stop shouting. Are you alright?"

"No, I'm not. My lover doesn't know me. We made love and he still doesn't know me. Now he's decided he loves me even though (as already discussed) he doesn't know me. So when he does get his memories back he's gonna be angry because he's being saying he loves me, and telling me about his family (the little he remembers), and he kisses me. Once he remembers himself again I think he's gonna be defensive and embarrassed. He may very well leave me."

"Maybe he really loves you."

"No, it's gratitude and relief. Not love. I don't like him saying it. It's like a knife twisting because it isn't real but I can tell he believes it is. It's painful."

"Har."

"I know. Bugger me, I know."

* * *

"Hello?" called Draco as he pulled open the infirmary door.

"Mr. Malfoy," Madame Pomfrey smiled, "what can I do for you? Our physical therapy session is scheduled for three."

"I was actually hoping we could talk."

She heard the seriousness in his tone and motioned to her desk. "Please sit down."

"I'd rather stand, thank you. I um, I was hoping you'd be willing to help me with my memory problem." He'd been over using the word hope. It made him feel nauseous just thinking about it. The one thing that didn't escape from Pandora's box was hope. It remained trapped inside because if it was loosed upon the world it would run out. And then where would the world be? Hope was a sick thing really. It made people believe in lost causes. Lost memories.

"How exactly?" she asked.

"I was _hoping_ you would brew me a dose of Borinthem's Prosfatem."

"Draco! That's illegal."

"No, it's not illegal to brew it. It's illegal to administer it to a second party. It's illegal to prescribe it to a second person. It's not illegal to supply it to someone. You aren't to know my intent."

"This is dangerous."

"I know, I'm not doing this rashly. I've been thinking about it since the moment I woke up. I tried conditioning and familiarity. I really put in an effort. But the doctors said my memories would start to fade. And it's been three weeks. I'm getting scared."

"Three weeks isn't enough to destroy your memories."

"Please."

"Borinthem's Prosfatem works from motives. What are yours? And fear, Mr. Malfoy, isn't good enough."

Draco just looked at her for a moment and then said, "I don't know who I am. Everyone's coming back and I feel naked. I need this. Harry's been great but I don't get it. What the hell did he ever see in me? From everything I've heard I've been a right. . . bastard. I need to know who I am."

Acting with the aplomb of a trained health professional Poppy pretended not to be shocked at learning about the apparent relationship and instead said, "Are you doing this for Mr. Potter?"

"No, he's just the catalyst. He doesn't know what I'm doing. Please. I'm focused and I know the risk."

"I'll need some form of parental permission."

""Well, see, I would ask my da. But I don't think he'd say yes as he doesn't seem to like me much at the moment."

"Mr. Malfoy, I need written permission from an adult to allow me to give you this."

"What if I write a statement and have Professor Snape sign it? I've been told that he's my godfather."

"That would suffice."

"Thank you. I'll go to him now. Can you start the potion? I know it takes an age to brew."

"80 hours. You can come after the feast and take it then. But you can't have it without the note."

"Right. Thank you for this."

The exchanged some pleasantries and neither paid much attention to what they were saying. Poppy was thinking about the possible consequences of the potion while Draco was mentally writing the note he would have Severus sign. He left after a few minutes and went back to the tower for some parchment. He dictated his statement to a self-writing quill as his fine motor skills weren't up to writing level yet. Everyday he went to physical therapy with Madame Pomfrey and he was improving but it was slow going. If the potion worked correctly he would revert back totally to the physical and mental state he had been in before he'd gone into the coma. He looked over the parchment and was quite pleased with the statement.

_To Whom it May Concern,_

_I, Draco Malfoy, asked Poppy Pomfrey to brew me Borinthem's Prosfatem. She was reluctant to do so but, as I am fully aware of the risks and possible ramifications, she agreed. I will administer the potion to myself, no one will be involved in that process save for me. Any negative repercussions resulting from this event are wholly my fault and responsibility._

_Draco Malfoy_

The dungeon made Draco distinctly unsettled. He didn't like the cold, dark, echoing maze. Even after being shown Snape's office twice it still took him twenty minutes to find the damn place. Once inside the room he felt ill. The man intimidated him and he was slightly worried about asking him to witness the note. Smiling nervously at his godfather he said, "Hello, Professor."

"Dragon, hello. You don't need to call me professor when we're alone." The blond had been told that he'd known Severus forever but the man's easy intimacy made Draco uncomfortable, "What do you need?"

"Well. Uh, I was wondering. . . hoping that maybe you'd, um, witness this for me? Just write that you're aware of the events and sign it? Please." He thrust the parchment at Severus and looked away, not wanting to see Snape's inevitable anger.

However Snape's anger did not arrive. He read the note and asked, "You know it could kill you? Or wipe your mind blank?"

"Yes."

"Does Harry know about this?"

"No- please, don't tell him. I don't want to be any more of a worry to him."

Snape cocked a single eyebrow, "Mr. Potter and I don't really speak to one another. Are you sure you want to do this?"

"Yes."

"Because, if you've had second thoughts I'll take the fall for you, you won't have to look like a fool. Sometimes people get caught up in things and then feel stupid backing out. You don't have to lose face. I'll tell Poppy I won't sign this and she won't give you the potion." Snape spoke with such ease and he sounded so much like a parent that it made Draco wonder about their relationship. Had he ever been his father's son? Or had he been designed in this man's image?

"I want to do this," Draco hoped his voice was solid.

Severus nodded and signed the paper. He cast a finishing spell upon the parchment so that it could not be tampered with, "Good luck, Dragon."

"Thank you," Draco smiled and really meant it.

* * *

He was really excited. He was going to tell Harry and Blaise that there was an end in sight. Bouncing into the Slytherin common room Draco felt happier than he had since he'd woken up in the hospital. But as he bounded towards the dorms he heard Harry's voice and halted. He heard Harry say that he didn't believe Draco's love and that he feared Draco's memories returning. Finally he heard Blaise say, "Har."

"I know. Bugger me, I know," said Harry and he sighed, "I'll stop bitching. I just want him to be happy again. He can either get his memories back and be comfortable with who he it or he can just forsake them and move on. I want him to not being having cold fits and be worrying about every little thing he says or does. I want him to be confident enough to fuck me through the floor or leave me. I just want him to be ok."

Clearing his throat Draco walked slowly towards the room and walked in with a smile on his face. His glee from earlier was no longer present but he wasn't mad at Harry. The boy was only worried about him. And even though he had heard Harry worrying about kissing he clambered over the bed and snogged him slowly. Blaise made a gagging noise and Draco reach behind himself blindly to whack his friend. Despite Harry's unease he stroked Draco's face.

"Hey you," said Harry as he broke away, "how'd it go?"

"I'll get my memories back after the feast. So, what have we been talking about?" he asked looking between his lover and friend.

"You. Always you," Harry answered honestly, "happy?"

"Very. I didn't want to wait three days though."

"Sorry, love, maybe it's like buying a weapon."

And Draco thought Harry was exactly right. In so many ways.


	9. 9

Title: Alliances 9/10 (We're getting close to the end)

D/H, R, angst and child abuse, spoilers for OotP

Lucius beats his son into a coma. When Draco wakes up he doesn't remember anything, not even his lover.

Note: I had 8 pages of this written. I threw away the handwritten copy, took my computer to the shop, and (for an unknown reason) have no longer got those 8 pages on my hard drive.

If you recall, when we last looked in Draco was spazzing out about his memories and then heard Harry say that he didn't believe memory-free!Draco really loved him. . .

* * *

The next few days moved so quickly and so fucking slow. Draco felt as though he were made of lead. He moved on slow, heavy feet while the people around him seemed to be walking at five times their natural speed. Time moved like old, slowly crystallizing honey. Draco wanted for the students to have arrived, the feast to be over, and the potion to be in his hand. Like Christmas, a birthday, or the end of term the day refused to arrive. It had been decided that no one was to know that Draco had lost his memory. They thought the boy would be safest if no one knew the truth but he was worried and he didn't want to pretend to know himself, he wanted to _actually _know himself. The desperation he felt for getting the potion was getting worse by the hour. And then suddenly, with no warning at all, students were spilling out of carriages onto the castle's driveway. Watching from a third story window Draco gasped when he saw the hideous beasts that had been pulling the coaches. From behind him, Harry saw what Draco was looking at and said, "Thestrals are frightening but they're useful. I wouldn't talk about them if I was you: most people can't see them."

"How can they not see them? They're hideous!"

Harry snaked his arms around Draco's waist and stood on his toes to hook his chin over his taller lover's shoulder as he said, "You can only see them if you've witnessed a death."

"Typical. It couldn't be something nice? Blue ponies that cry gold tears. It couldn't be something that you'd feel privileged in seeing? Something to ease the burden. No we get to see something hellish."

"I've ridden one," said Harry, "It was freeing in a way. Very intelligent animals." Harry saw that Draco was turning steadily more green and he said, "You gonna be ok?"

"All those kids," Draco said softly. "How am I supposed to fool them? I can't fool myself. I don't know how to be me." He knew he had no friends but what if no one even wanted to talk to him, or sit near him? What if someone saw through the sham and called him on it? He felt slightly dizzy as he watched the students mill into the castle. "What am I playing at? How the hell am I supposed to do this?"

"We still have forty-five minutes before the feast begins, come back to the tower with me?" Draco just nodded and allowed himself to be led. By the time they got to the portrait hole Draco's breath was sporadic and shallow in his chest. He felt Harry pull him through the doorway. After being pushed into Harry's favourite seat he found that he had a lapful of Head Boy whispering into his ear, "Breathe. . . breathe. . . breathe." Once Draco's breathing evened out Harry said, "You'll be fine. It'll be easy to act like yourself. You just remember that you are a pureblooded Malfoy who's too fucking good for this school and all who inhabit it. You're a prefect, in your seventh year, and a more powerful wizard than most of the professors. Be cool, don't dignify anyone with much eye contact. If someone asks you a question you don't like or can't answer? Don't: just sneer. If someone asks you a question you feel you can answer? Go for it, but keep sneering. If someone seems genuinely nice or concerned or nervous don't be mean, drop the sneer, but don't be warm either. You'll be fine."

Draco sighed, "I guess it won't be too hard. I'll just focus on the potion instead."

Sliding off his lover's lap Harry looked up and the boy and asked a question even though he thought he already knew the answer, "Can I come with you to the infirmary?"

"I," Draco thought rapidly. The potion was bound to cause him pain and he didn't want Harry to witness it. And what if it went wrong? What if it turned him blue? He would need some time to fix it so he said, "I would really rather do it alone. A self-reliance thing."

"I get it," said Harry softly and he took his lover's hands. "I know we haven't spoken about it much but I know just from your face that whatever you're doing is dangerous. And if you're doing this to find out if you lo-"

His words were cut off by the sudden opening of the portrait hole. A shaking Ron was standing there clutching the scrap of parchment on which McGonagall had written the password for him. "You," he pointed at Draco, "everyone thinks you're a hero. But there are those of us who know you for what you really are. You're a killed my sister and I'm not about to forget that. Some of us see through your martyred son act. You probably begged him to beat you, it makes you look so trustworthy. I know that you're just out for the main chance, you changed side because you got something out of it. And if you're thinking about strutting into the Great Hall you've got another thing coming. Because I'm not gonna let you gain anything else from this pathetic episode."

Standing slowly Harry said, "Malfoy, go upstairs." He was pleased to see that his lover sneered at Ron as he left the room. The boy was a quick study in acting himself.

"I see you got yourself a dog," said Ron as he watched the blond obediently leave. "Cool trick, does he also roll over and beg?"

"Ron, as Head Boy, if you verbally attack him again I will be forced to write you up," Harry said calmly as his innards ached with anger.

"Like you've never insulted him!" shouted Ron angrily.

"There's a difference between calling someone a ferret-faced git and calling him a murderer. No one could have saved Ginny but he tried. It isn't his fault that she died. She shouldn't have been there. She wasn't ready. I should have realized that or Dumbledore should have. And it wasn't your fault for being in the infirmary. _No one_ could have saved her. I'm sorry, I miss her too. She wouldn't want you to still be miserable. Allow yourself to grieve and forgive. But, for Merlin's sake, you have to stop blaming Draco it isn't healthy or rational." He wished Hermione was there as he could hear her in his own words. He had read Hogwarts, A History after she'd died, he had missed her so badly it only seemed right. And at some point he had started hearing her condescending, "boy's are idiots and I must explain everything" tone in his head and he had felt happy about it as she calmly explained things to him. Draco had said he was hearing his mage powers and common sense but Harry was positive she was helping him from beyond the grave.

"_Draco_? He really is your dog, isn't he?" Ron scoffed.

"Go down to the feast. We will be there shortly." He turned away to show the redhead that the conversation was over. As he walked up the stairs he heard the portrait slamming closed.

At the top of the stairwell Draco was having a full blown panic attack and as Harry pulled the boy into an embrace his lover said, "Cunt. . . bastard sure ok. Murderer? No. . . no. . . no, not that, please, not that." He said it over and over as Harry petted him and whispered endearments to him.

"Breathe, Co. . . breathe. . . breathe, good boy." When Draco's respiration became regular again Harry said, "You protected her 'til the very end. You did nothing wrong. And you made me very proud that day." Draco seemed to relax a little against him and Harry tried to ease the memory of the incident by going back to the earlier discussion. "I know this treatment you're going for is dangerous. And if you're doing it to find out if you loved me, don't. I can tell you."

"I thought you didn't know?" asked Draco slowly trying to keep the accusation out of his voice.

"I was lying to. . . both of us. You didn't love me." Harry smiled softly and then gestured between them, "This? Was safe and comforting but you didn't love me."

"Why were you with him!" asked Draco angrily once again attempting to separating himself from the old Draco with a clever pronoun.

"Because I liked having you for my own," Harry reached out to touch Draco but the blond shied away from the touch.

"But you_ didn't_ have me," his tone was angry but the ire was directed solely at his past. "Let's go to the goddamned feast. I'm fucking ravenous."

* * *

By the time they reached the feast the first years had been sorted and Dumbledore had announced that Draco had been relocated to Gryffindor be he needed copious amounts of sunlight to fully recuperate. Everyone in the Hall was talking and apparently no one believed Dumbledore's explanation as to the reason for the move. Undoubtedly there would be some amazing gossip and leaps of reasoning floating around the school for the next week.

Harry hated the rumor mill more then than ever before. This wasn't about his reputation as a crazy, dangerous, attractive megalomaniac. This was his _lover _they were talking about and it made him seethe inside. As Harry and Draco walked into the Great Hall the immense room went quiet. Draco felt his face blanch. Harry tried to ease it all with a gentle reminder. Whispering so that only Draco could hear he said, "Chin up and look haughty."

As they sat down Neville smiled and said, "Wotcher, Harry. Hi, Malfoy."

"Neville, how are you?" asked Harry warmly. Neville had been one of the first Gryffindors to accept that Draco was really on their side.

"Fine, fine. How was your summer?"

"Brilliant," replied Draco dryly, "except for the bulk of it where I was in a coma."

Harry gave his knee a sharp squeeze under the table sending an easily understood message, "Ease up and be less of a dick."

"Yeah," said Neville looking embarrassed and apologetic, "I'm sorry about that. My gran kept all the articles in her scrapbook!" he said with false cheer as though it was some sort of a consolation prize. "She says she always knew you were a good egg."

"Thank her for me," Draco said coolly, "it's nice to know that someone thought well of me." Looking around and saw that he was getting a lot of looks from around the room. Lots of boy's were eyeing him with reserved respect or unsure judgment while groups of girls were openly studying him and then giggling amongst themselves. "I didn't used to get this attention."

"You don't care and don't notice," advised Harry softly. Then he added audibly for the table's benefit, "Malfoy, you're a celebrity now. Been all over the papers as the unwilling hero. Get ready for mothers hugging you in the street and third year girls following you around the castle." He laughed. Most everyone thought they were friends. It had been a good cover for their relationship and now it was easy to talk playfully with him in front of groups. "We make a right pair: Scar Boy and the Coma Breath Kid."

During the feast Draco ate a little of everything. He wasn't hungry but it was best not to take potions on an empty stomach. Unsure of his tastes he sampled all of the various dishes and had an oh-so-civil conversation with Dean about classes. After a half hour he saw Madame Pomfrey and Severus make to leave together. "That's my signal," he said softly, squeezing Harry's hand tightly before he stood, and then said with an almost polite smirk to the table, "see you in the tower."

"Good luck," Harry wished he could go too.

"Thanks, but I don't need it," he smiled cockily as he strode out of the Hall as though he owned the place and wasn't leaving before it was polite to do so. After all, he was a Malfoy: he could do whatever the fuck he wanted.

* * *

In the infirmary the adults were already waiting for him. Madame Pomfrey pointed him towards a cauldron filled with electric blue potion sitting in a bucket of ice. It smelled faintly of glass cleaner and bleach and Draco was pleased that he wouldn't be swallowing it. Indeed, a small tray had been set down next to the cauldron with cleansing swabs and a hypodermic needle. Many archaic were designed to be injected into a muscle, the potions were heat sensitive and could only remain effective for short times inside the heat of the human body. Swallowing the liquid would cause it to become too warm before it could take effect. If the potion was injected directly into a muscle the liquid had seven seconds of potency before blood heat killed it.

Picking up the short needle he smiled as Severus said, "You're sure about this? Madame Pomfrey and I won't be offended if you've had second thoughts."

"Yes, I am sure. Thank you." Draco pulled a measure of the potion into the syringe, cleaned his upper arm with the swab, and said, "Here goes nothing." Flinching, he stabbed the needle into his flesh. As he pushed down the plunger he concentrated on his goals. But as he pulled the needle out of his arm he thought it had failed. He sadly shook his head at Madame Pomfrey. Suddenly, he felt himself crumble to the floor. Writhing in pain he felt all of his memories trying to cram their way into his skull in under seven seconds. Severus knelt and tried to put something in his mouth to stop him from biting his tongue. But Draco wasn't having a fit he was _just_ in agony. He spat out the bit in time to vomit into Severus' lap. He remembered being born with frighteningly clear details, and being breastfed, he remembered how frustrating learning to walk was. He remembered meeting Harry in the robe shop and thinking he was strange. He remembered numerous throw downs they'd had in front of large groups and alone. He remembered being inside of Harry for the first time and kissing the boy's forehead while he slept. He remembered killing his aunt Bella a moment too late; he couldn't save Ginny. Standing slowly he banished the sick with a wave of his wand saying, "Well, that was. . . enlightening. I think it went pretty well. Thank you very much, Madame Pomfrey, for everything. I owe you a great debt. If you'll excuse me I'll be off to bed."

"Draco, you need an examination," she was shocked that he thought to leave so quickly.

"The potion can't be active for more than seven seconds. It's run its course. If you're looking for side effects, don't worry. My left leg is still slightly shorter than my right. If the potion had been apt to change anything it would be that. Ergo, it can safely be assumed that nothing has changed." His eyes were colder now and they held no trace of the unassuming and shy boy she'd gotten to know. The man in front of her was most certainly the Malfoy heir. "Thank you, again, you've been more than kind," he said with a polite nod and left the infirmary quickly. Severus caught up with him a few seconds later.

The man pulled him into a brief, unexpected, but welcome hug. As he pulled back he begrudgingly admitted, "I was worried."

Draco just smirked before saying, "Before I thought you were bizarrely intimate with me. How _is_ my mother?"

"She's well," Snape smile self-deprecatingly.

"And my father still believes she's dead?"

"The Order did a thorough job of faking her death."

"Apparently," Draco smiled, amused with himself, "Send her my love and tell her that, no matter where she is, I will come to her at Christmas. And I'll be bringing a friend."

"Not that blighter of a boy you call lov-"

"I have never called Potter "lover" in front of you," said Draco coolly as he walked towards the stairs that led to the dungeon, "It'll be a cozy Christmas: just the four of us."

"Where are you going?" asked Snape who was surprised Draco wasn't _running_ to the Gryffindor tower.

"I need to talk to Blaise. And, believe it or not, Potter and I have been known to go for _hours_ before losing control and rutting on the floor." His godfather rolled his eyes and as they reached the Slytherin corridor Draco asked, "Would you mind fetching him for me? I'd rather not get mauled by my housemates." Looking up he saw Severus studying him and asked, "What?"

"You make me very proud, Dragon," with that Severus walked into the dorms. Draco smiled slightly at the retreating man's back. His godfather, a literal motherfucker, and the closest thing he'd ever had to a dad.

After a few moments he was back with a confused looking Blaise in tow. Clearly, the boy thought he was in trouble but when he saw Draco he broke away from the professor, "Did it work?" Draco nodded with a look of smug satisfaction, "That's brilliant! That's- why aren't you with Harry?" he asked cutting himself off.

"Does no one believe I can exist without Potter?" He heard Severus snickering and gave the man's back a two fingered salute.

"No, I just figured you'd tell him first."

Draco didn't want to go to the tower. He wasn't quite ready to have that discussion, "Well, I didn't! I came to see _you_."

"I'm glad," said Blaise in a placating tone. He could tell that Draco was wound-up tightly and was liable to go off bang. He nodded slightly to show that he understood Draco's actions. The short dreadlocks he'd been cultivating over the summer bounced around his face.

"That hair is fucking ridiculous. You're too angular for it, shave your head," Draco said waspishly, still brooding over Harry.

"I's good to have you back, Co."


	10. 10

Title: Alliances 10/10 (There will be an Epilogue)

D/H, angst and child abuse, spoilers for OotP

This part is long.

**NOTE: this part has been severely edited. I have cut out a huge chunk (4,187 words) were cut of this chapter to make it acceptable for should you want to read the real version, a much, much longer FRAO version go to** http/www(dot)livejournal(dot)com/users/azure(underscore)k(underscore)mello/102095(dot)html

So does Draco love his boy or were they really just sleeping together?

Thank you to Cassy (jameschick) for the quick and thorough beta reading. Any mistakes remaining are mine alone.

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The common room was abuzz when he opened the portrait and fell silent the minute he stepped inside. "Please," he said with a caustic smile, "don't let my presence put a damper on your gossip. . . about me." He crossed to Harry's favourite seat by the fire and was pleased to see his lover starring into the flames. A small tub of pale blue powder sat open on the little side table next to the chair while the image of two war boats duked it out over a sea of flames. Harry did so love the Fire Films powder Draco had given him for Christmas. "A word, Potter?"

"Now? I'm at a good bit," whined Harry.

"_Now_, Potter."

"Fine, you bastard," muttered Harry loudly as he shut the tub and put it into his pocket.

Draco stomped upstairs as Harry followed hot on his heals. Casting a silencing spell on the room Draco watched his lover lock the door. "I love that act; you're so hot when you're angry."

"So it worked then?" Harry asked as he walked towards Draco.

"Like a dream," Draco said sinking down on the edge of his bed, "I feel as sick as a pig. I had to leave the infirmary quickly: Madame Pomfrey was ready to keep me over night." After studying his green lover Harry got him a cold glass of water from the sink in the toilet. "Thanks," said Draco sipping it slowly, "I threw up all over Severus and then he followed me out so I had to fake being well because he's liable to be more protective than her. Saw Blaise, told him the happy news, had a quick word with Sev, and dragged myself back up here."

Feeling Draco's too-cold forehead Harry said, "Maybe you _should_ be in the infirmary."

"No, I don't want to spend tonight with all my memories in a sterile white metal bed." The blond drank his water while Harry watched him. Putting aside the empty glass, Draco stood, stretched, and said, "Besides, we need to talk."

Harry felt his face blanch. He had wanted to just forget everything. He had thought -from the way he was talking- that Draco wanted that too.. "Can't we just forget the last two months?"

"No, too much happened."

"Please, Co, I only said the things I did because you needed to hear them."

"I never knew how badly you needed to be told that I love you."

"I don't! I'm fine."

"You aren't fine, Har!" Draco shouted as he loomed over his short lover. "This isn't fine!"

Looking down Harry whispered "Please."

"Please what?"

"Don't leave me," Harry looked him in the eye and desperation was clear all over his face. It was a plea more than a comment when he said, "We're so good together."

"Oh. I didn't realize. I didn't know that "good together" meant that one of us would end up in a coma and the other would be one solid mass of neuroses."

With a nod Harry said, "I get it. I wouldn't want to be with the guy who caused me to have a coma, either. It's ok."

"It wasn't your fault."

"I should have _been_ there."

"You told me not to go home but I wouldn't listen to you. I thought my father would play by the rules and stay in prison. But he didn't and, of course, he knew I wasn't a spy. He's not a fool. And when his fist hit my face I thought, 'I should have listened to Harry.' It wasn't your fault."

"Ok," said Harry feeling beaten down and not able to argue. "What do you want to talk about.

"Before, I thought I was in love with you. But I didn't even understand what that meant."

"I know-" started Harry but Draco interrupted.

"No! You don't. I heard you and Blaise. But you don't know what I'm going to say."

"I do! Don't say it. I _know_ you don't love me. It's fine, but don't say it. Don't rub it in. Can't we just forget this and pick up where we left off?"

"So you would be happy to stay with someone who doesn't love you?"

"I just want to be with you," Harry said as he sat down heavily on his bed. It had been a long day and he was awfully tired. His eyes stung from staring into the fire for so long, his head pounded from the shouting, and he wanted nothing more than to sleep. Reaching out he took Draco's hand, "Can't we talk about this tomorrow? I know some part of you still wants me."

"You're telling me to think with my dick? I was right, I have treated you like a whore! And what do you get in return? A warm body to stave off your nightmares?"

"Fine, don't come to bed with me. Continue this fight by yourself because I'm going to sleep." He kicked off his shoes, threw aside his glasses, and climbed into bed fully dressed save for his socks. Before he shut the curtains he said, "I'm pleased you got your memories back. I hope you'll sleep easy now."

"I can't," said Draco looking at the now shut curtains, "I'm madly in love with you."

The curtains sprung open without the help of human hands. Blue flames ate at the material and Harry was staring at him, eyes blue. Blue, liquid-less tears were pouring down his face as he said, "Shut up. Now is not a good time for one of your mind fucks! It's not clever or funny. I'm not amused and you shouldn't be either if you have any sense of self-preservation." He looked at the boy expectantly.

With his eyes cast down Draco said, "No it wasn't funny. I'm sorry." Harry pulled the ragged curtains closed around him as Draco walked into the toilet with an angry sigh. He washed his face with cool water. Even though he was physically cold he was sweating and he wanted to be clean. Toeing off his trainers Draco let the coldness of the flagstones sink into him via the soles of his feet. Breathing deeply he told himself to calm down. He wasn't sure if his shaking was caused by the potion or anger. All he wanted was for it to stop.

After twenty minutes of silence Harry wondered what had become of his lover. He knew Draco had not gone to bed because he would have heard the boy. The joke hadn't been funny but maybe he over reacted. Feeling guilty Harry pulled open the tattered curtains and saw light pouring out of the toilet. He reached for his glasses so he could make out a shape on the floor. As he walked slowly towards the door he called softly, "Co? You alright?"

The boy had pulled himself into a tight ball with his arms around his legs and his face resting against his knees so that he was facing down into his lap. He was rocking slowly back and forth from his toes to his bum and back again. Under his breath he was muttering one phrase over and over again, "calm down, calm down, calm down." Harry knelt down and pulled the boy to him, stroking the blond's head repeatedly. "I thought I would know everything."

"What?"

"I thought there would be no more questions. I thought I would understand you once I got my memories back."

"What?" repeated a very stunned Harry.

"I pumped poison into my body to get it to make sense."

"Poison?"

"The potion I used hasn't had favorable results in a 112 years. But I was getting desperate!"

"For what?"

"To understand why you would want me. Why_ anyone_ would ever even tolerate my company. . . let alone enjoy it. So I pumped this shite into my system and it felt like my flesh was burning. And instead of finding the answers to my questions I just found out that none of them are new!"

"Draco. . ."

"Why the _fuck_ are we together? Don't say it's because you love me. _Why_ do you love me? I'm a cunt!"

Harry laughed, "Co, you're not a cunt!"

"No? Then what am I? You never gave me a real answer as to why we're together: just anecdotes. Well guess what! I laughed at your "Stupid jokes" because I thought they were funny. And I held your hand in that cinema because I was scared witless."

Unused to Draco being honest Harry was unsure of what to say. "Oh," was all he could think of.

"Shocked, Har?" he asked snidely, "There were huge images of people seemingly bleeding to death. It was loud, dark, and we were in an enclosed room of muggle strangers."

"I'm sorry. I didn't think. I thought you'd enjoy it. Slasher films are supposed to make for fun dates."

"Don't apologize. I was fool enough to go along with you," said the blond coolly. He sounded bored with the memory and the conversation at hand. "Why are you with me, Har, really? What do you get?"

"A better question, _Co_," he stressed the name as he didn't like Draco calling him Har while berating him, "is why do you care?" He didn't want to explain his feelings when it was so obvious that they weren't returned.

"I need. To. Understand," Draco spoke through gritted teeth as though he was trying to control himself, "We're friendly but not friends. We're lovers but not in love. I need to understand it if we're to go on. I could ignore it before but we've spoken about it so much over the last week that I need to know. Please, explain it to me. Why are you with me?"

After thinking about his words carefully Harry said slowly, "We're very different people." Draco grimaced and it was clear that he was unsatisfied with the answer. "Stand up."

Draco stood with a slightly put out sigh,. All he wanted was a straight answer. "Why am I standing?" His tone suggested Harry was a moron.

"What do you see?" asked Harry gesturing to his mirror.

"Your smart-arse looking glass?"

"Stop being so bloody clever. What do you see _in_ the mirror?" he positioned Draco so that he was standing in the center of the refection.

"Hey, Co!" said the mirror cheerfully, "you need to get normal soon, 'kay? I can only cope with one mental at a time and Harry's got dibs."

"Yes, he's a head case. But he's _our_ head case." Draco smirked at the mirror and then to Harry said, "You did a good job of acting sane while I was being mental."

"I'm sane! I hate it when you two gang up on me! Co, stop winding me up and look in the mirror!" Harry was pleased that they were talking like old times.

"All I see," said Draco shaking his head ruefully, "is you and me in a rather posh toilet. So what? I'm too hot to dump? Is that the point of making me look in a mirror."

"No. Do you know what I see?"

Sneering Draco drawled, "Do tell."

"I see a scared foolish boy and a very strong man."

"I'm not scared!" Draco replied angrily.

"Yes, you are. But I wasn't talking about you. My life has been built off of other people's expectations. I've done exactly what was expected of me. I've never thought for myself. I just did as my parents and Dumbledore wanted barely asking any questions. And no one questioned my motives because they all _decided _they were noble while really I had none. I've been too cowardly to ever really think about any of it. But you, you fought with me, questioned me, and hated me more than anyone ever has. You forced me to think, and feel, and give a damn. My whole life has been controlled by other people and then you made me realize that I had options! I can't live my life for them and you made me want to do what I had always seen as being an obligation. You've gone against everything you were taught and you are so brave. You stood up to everyone who questioned you right from your father, to McGonagall, to Fudge. So strong. Someday. . . someday I hope I have children who are half as amazing as you. What you lack in kindness, thoughtfulness, and tact you make up for with your scary intelligence, caustic wit, and ability to cling to freewill." He shrugged as if to say, "so that's that". His breath was ragged and he felt ill at having admitted so much to Draco. But the boy had seemed genuinely desperate and Harry had felt the strange urge to assure him. Leaning against the sink he tried to compose himself. He had just supplied his lover with months worth of ammo to belittle him with. Shock washed over Harry as his lover took him into his arms. "I'm so sorry," he said as he buried his head in the blond's neck.

"For what?" asked Draco gently as he stroked his boy's hair. "Sorry for what?"

"For making it all so complicated. This is meant to just be fun right? I fucked it up."

"No, Har, you're fine. I get it. Thank you for explaining it." Draco studied his lover's posture for a moment before saying, "I wasn't brave or clever. I'm an idiot."

"No," Harry said trying to comfort the man as he sounded so sad. Harry wasn't sure what was going through the other boy's mind but he wanted to fix it. He pulled away and said, "No."

"Yes!" Draco argued testily. "I'm a fool. I didn't think you really loved me. I thought you just loved being in love. I'm sorry, I should have trusted you." He ran his tongue over the backs of his front teeth thinking for a moment, "I love you." The only sound was Harry's harsh breathing. Draco swallowed hard before continuing, "I didn't think you really cared for me. I am a cunt. No one really gives a fuck about me. . . unless I'm in a coma. Even when you said you loved me I didn't believe it because. . . well, why would you? I've never felt this before and I didn't want to. I'm supposed to be in control of my life. I've always controlled everything and I was slipping. I couldn't tell you because then you'd hold all the Chocolate Frog Cards. I am a coward." Harry opened his mouth to argue but Draco hushed him tiredly, "Say that you can forgive me and come to bed."

The skin under Harry's fingers was cold. Too stunned to react to Draco's admission he said, "Maybe you _should_ be in the infirmary. You're so cold."

"No," Draco moaned as if pained by the idea, ""Don't leave me alone. You can keep me warm."

"I'll stay with you down there. I'll even share your bed, screw Madame Pomfrey's sensibilities. Please let her check you out?"

Harry sounded worried but Draco ignored the request, "Bring me to bed, Har. It's just the potion's aftermath. There's nothing she can do; I have to ride it out." Harry seemed to calm down at his lover's words so Draco spoke softly when he asked, "Make love to me? It'll keep me warm," he justified.

"What?" Harry was still too dazed to have fully taken in everything. "You're sick, Co, you don't want to supplicate yourself to me. Trust me, you'll regret this in the morning." His tone was resigned and Draco wanted to stab his own eye out with his wand for making the mage feel like that.

Draco tipped his lover's chin up and kissed him softly. All he could think was, I'm almost 18 and this is my first real kiss. Breaking away he said, "Not supplication just love. I always wanted this; I was just too much of a coward to ask. Couldn't let you in. . . literally," he laughed dryly.

Not amused Harry sounded completely fogged over as he said, "You kissed me. . . You don't like kissing. You don't kiss me. It's intimate and unhygienic."

Without pause Draco reclaimed Harry's mouth. He licked the dark boy's lower lip in a plea for admission. Startled Harry jumped a little before tentatively parting his lips. The dark boy laughed into Draco's mouth in slight hysterics but the sound was quickly swallowed. Harry was warm to the touch and, without opening his eyes, Draco knew the mage was blushing. Their tongues fought for dominance and the battle was as violent and tenacious as their verbal spars. Pulling at Harry's robes Draco tried to get a purchase on his lover's hips so that he could pull Harry up to his height. Shaking fingers managed to lift him a few inches, forcing Harry to stand on tiptoe. He grabbed Draco's shoulder in an attempt to keep his balance. He lost the fight with gravity as he fell against the blond, their lips parted to steal gasps of air. A hiss escaped from Harry as he felt a hardness under Draco's robes rub against his stomach.

"And you said you didn't like snogging," laughed Harry breathlessly.

"I's not that," panted Draco, "i's the honesty. Feels so good to not be lying." He let go of his death hold on Harry's hips and allowed him to stand normally. Leaning down slowly, he kissed Harry with near painful tenderness. A silent pledge of love, acceptance, and protection was offered and accepted there in the Head Boy's toilet.

As if only just noticing their surroundings Harry said firmly, "It's no good. Invalids should be in bed." He waited for Draco to frown before adding, "With their extremely randy lovers."

"No!" cried the mirror, "It's just getting good!"

"If your lucky we'll fuck in the shower tomorrow," Draco said with a grin as he pulled Harry out of the smallest room by his collar. Discarding clothes as they went, the pair failed to make it to bed. Half way across the distance Draco dropped to his knees to nuzzle his lover's stomach.

Standing half naked Harry laughed, "What are you doing?"

"Worshipping," whispered Draco as he stroked the puncture wound on Harry's left hip. He lavished attention on the scar. Before he hadn't understood Harry's fascination with the scar on his body that mirrored the one he was currently licking. Now he got it. The mark stood as proof that they could have destroyed one another as easily as save each other. Harry stood over him whole, proud, strong, and his.

* * *

Cut due to graphicness. Again, go to: http/www(dot)livejournal(dot)com/users/azure(underscore)k(underscore)mello/102095(dot)html

* * *

They laid together for a few silent moments. Irreverently breaking the peace Draco said, "Top ten _ever_."

Laughing at the fact that his lover was already rating their sex, Harry said, "Y'know something?"

"What?"

"We_ are_ friends. And we have been for a long time."

"But I'm Draco Malfoy, the Malfoy heir: I'm supposed to have cool friends." He laughed as Harry smacked his hip. He saw Harry drifting off but they still had a lot to talk about so he made a move to piss off his lover, "That was an amazing fuck."

Eyes flying open Harry said, "That wasn't a_ fuck_!"

"No," Draco smirked, "For one thing we never stopped chatting."

Defensively Harry said, "We had a lot to discuss."

"And we still do," Draco spoke in a placating tone.

"Ok," the mage still sounded put out, "for starters, why were you shocked when I said I would stop if you asked?"

He flinched, he had been hoping his lover had forgotten that, "I just-"

Interrupting angrily the dark boy spat out, "You don't think I'm considerate enough?"

"No!" that had never even occurred to him.

"Then what?" The dejected and bitter tone of the question made the blond flinch again.

Draco paused. He _really_ didn't want to answer, "I just never expected that sort of consideration from. . . anyone."

Clearly it was a reply Harry hadn't been prepared for. Thrown off kilter the boy asked, "Why not?"

Swallowing convulsively Draco considered his reply. The truth wasn't going to please the mage but he was trying to be honest. And so, throwing caution and sense to the wind he said, "Because I don't deserve it and I'm not really worth it." He saw the horror on Harry's face and he shut his eyes, "respect is something you work for and I've never put in the effort, not for that sort of respect anyway." He shrugged, still not opening eyes, "Pretty pathetic, huh? I don't even respect me. I know you love me so, even if you hurt me, it wouldn't be malicious. I don't know what I expected, Har, you just caught me off guard when you said it."

"But," the mage's voice was gentle now, "care like that _should_ be taken for granted. No one is allowed to hurt you; anyone should stop if you say stop. Otherwise it's just-"

He didn't want to hear the word out of his lover's mouth so he started to argue before Harry even started, "I've taken nothing about you for granted because I was sure this would end poorly and sooner rather than later so I just appreciated everything, not outwardly though obviously. And it wouldn't be rape _never_ -no matter how badly it hurt- not with you."

Harry was shaking against his as he asked, "Why?"

"You love me. There are no circumstances under which it would be anything but making love."

"You're saying you'd enjoy my raping you?" the question sounded shaky and frightened.

"No. I'm saying that if it was motivated by love I'd enjoy it." Opening his eyes he glared at Harry. The gray glinted dangerously in the dim light, "You could break my body and just so long as you adored me I would consider my gift to you gladly given. I guess I _am_ the perv because you could make me bleed to death and if you held me as I drained and told me that you loved me and that I was pretty, I would still get off on it." Shaking his head tiredly he said, "Are we done debasing me? We have other topics."

Harry was scared. He'd never realized how much pull he had over the boy. The responsibility of protecting Draco finally hit home. Maybe _that_ was why Dumbledore had made him Head Boy and given him a private room. He wasn't meant to fix Draco but to protect him once he was fixed. He almost felt grateful to the man. . . almost. "Of course. I'm sorry. I love you. I would never abuse your affections like that, promise."

Uncomfortable with the apology Draco announced, "I spoke to Severus after I saw Blaise, just before I came back here. He's going with me to see my father tomorrow. I'm going to beg him to let me back in to the family. Once he lets his guard down I plan on killing him. It's not vengeance, really, I'm just taking care of the threat." His lover tried to pull away but stopped when he felt Draco's hands caressing his skin, "Stay with me a little longer? You feel amazing inside of me, like I have the all power of a mage."

"Don't kill him," Harry knew that Draco was deeply torn over his father and worried that murdering the man would upset the blond in ways Draco couldn't anticipate. "Let Snape do it: he'll enjoy it."

Pulling back slightly Draco asked, "Do you think I can't do it? You've seen me kill in the past."

"I know you can. I just don't think you should have to deal with the guilt you _will_ feel. Snape won't feel that. He's hated the man for years. He only hasn't killed him yet because of you and because he'd no longer be able to spy. If he uses your wand the Ministry will think you did it. They won't punish you. You're the nation's sweetheart. And they know I'm on your side and no one wants to upset the boy who lived." He sounded bitter at the title and it reminded Draco of one other promise.

All of Harry's ideas sounded so logical and Draco nodded, "Another promise?"

"Why all the promises?" asked Harry softly.

"Because everything you've said tonight came true. If the powers are rooting for us right now I want to exploit it."

"When I found out about your memories I told the powers they could fix you or fuck themselves. Maybe this is our night of grace. . . before they expect us to do their bidding again."

"Maybe," Draco agreed cupping Harry's face in his hands, "and this is about that in a way. If you die, before me, promise me you'll pass-over and not linger here as a ghost just to keep me company. I'll fend for myself until I can be with you again. Ok?" The whole thing scared him badly. In the weeks before his father had broken out of jail it was all he had thought about.

"Where is this coming from?" Harry hoped he could assuage his lover's obvious worry without committing himself to the strange pact.

"When you speak about the government, or the powers and god, or the war you sound so tired and resigned. You wrote a will. You even got it witnessed. You think you'll kill each other: that you won't make it through the "last stand". And if you're already accepting it, you won't make it. That's ok, if that's the way you have to think to get through it. But (once it does happen) move on. I can see you trying to stay to protect me. Don't. Go up there and I'll find you later."

Again Harry was struck by the power he had to affect Draco. That his morbid fascination with his imminent death had caused Draco to think things out so thoroughly. "I won't die. That's my promise. I'm gonna win outright."

"Excuse me?" asked the blond thinking he'd misheard.

"You're right, I've taken this laying down. He has some stupid cause to live for but I've got you and a future. So I'll win. I have no choice, it's already decided. It seems so obvious now." The blond was struck dumb as Harry kissed his nose in closing. "I think we should go to sleep now. Big day tomorrow." Draco just nodded still unable to find his tongue. With slow grace Harry pulled out of him and moved off of the taller boy. Turning on his side the mage pulled his lover back against him saying, "Night, Co, sleep well."

Draco turned over and said, "Are you still having conversations with my evil clone when you sleep?" he saw Harry's shock, the boy had been trying to keep the dreams a secret from him. "I didn't realize until I got my memories. You did a good job of coving up but I know you and I know the way you look the morning after a nightmare."

"I'm still having them," Harry said in an uneasy tone.

"We can't have him finding out about this turn. I don't know if you've realized this but that's not a dream, it's Voldemort. Now that I am whole again I know his signature. That thing in your head isn't of your making."

"I figured that out the second night."

"Ok, This will be horrible, but I'm going to be a Pensieve for you. But I'm going to take them completely. It's the only way, you're useless at Occlumency." Harry nodded and Draco said, "I swear you'll get your memories back in ten minutes. He usually visits the instant people fall asleep and only stays a few minutes for fear of being caught out. Are you ok with this?"

"What memories are you gonna take?" asked Harry.

"Everything from tonight. But in under a half hour you'll have them back. I'm sorry."

"It's the only way. I understand." He kissed Draco.

"Ok," Draco breathed in deeply. He touched the boy's temples and said, "Don't look away from my eyes." He pulled the last ten hours out of Harry's mind and hated himself for doing so.

"Co?" asked Harry softly, "did you get your memories?"

"Yeah, you bastard. You made me go into a coma." Draco climbed out of bed and said, "I'm going back to my father in the morning. Maybe it's not too late to get the mark." He climbed out of the bed and stomped over to the other one.

He listened to Harry who was trying to cry silently. He curled up and held his knees as he listened to the boy fall asleep. Harry made whimpering noises and then said in his sleep, "This is your fault, you took him from me! And now he's going back to your lapdog!" He listened to Harry moaning softly as if pained. Finally after a few minutes his breathing became even and Draco knew the dream was done. He practically ran to the bed.

"Wake up," he climbed under the covers.

"You're not gone?" Harry said bitterly.

"Look into my eyes for a moment?" Draco touched the boy's forehead and let all the memories flow back. "Ok?" Harry nodded silently and Draco said, "I'm sorry. I know it's a total violation."

"No, it made sense. It's ok."

"Are _you_ ok?" Draco asked, staring into his lover's eyes. It was a rather complicated piece of magic to cast not once but twice in a half hour. He grabbed his wand from the bedside and said, "Lumos." He shined it in Harry's eyes and saw that his pupils reacted. Snape had taught him the skill years before but he had never had an occasion to use it on such an immense scale before. "I love you."

"Say it again," Harry demanded shakily.

"I love you." He kissed Harry slowly, putting everything he had left into it. "Come to bed now, you must be exhausted." Draco wrapped himself around the mage and Harry relaxed and held him close. "I love you," Draco said again and Harry smiled brightly.

"This has been a very long day," Harry said softly and he kissed Draco again, lightly, affectionately before he shut his eyes and slipped into a dreamless sleep.

Draco stayed awake for an age.

**Stay tuned for the epilogue!**

**Remember for fuller version go to: **http/www(dot)livejournal(dot)com/users/azure(underscore)k(underscore)mello/102095(dot)html


	11. Epilogue

Title: Alliances Epilogue

D/H, angst and child abuse, spoilers for OotP

Part Rating : R

Draco loves Harry.

* * *

The fire was nice and bright and Harry sat in front of it waiting. He was worried about Draco. No one save for Neville had interrupted his vigil so far. When The Daily Prophet had learned he was a mage they had run their usual slander campaign of, "Potter's a Dangerous Head Case: Ask Us How!" Since then most people avoided him when possible. The paper had said that, yes, he would kill Voldemort, that he was on their side, but that he was also as mad as a hatter and liable to kill anything that moved. While he hated the newspaper he was, at that moment, almost grateful. His peers were keeping their distance and Harry was happy with the peace.

Neville had sat with him for a time. They had talked about the strange Herbology class they'd taken that morning with the Slytherins. They're had been five people to each potting table. Harry and Neville had ended up with Dean, Blaise, and Draco. And they's actually _enjoyed_ themselves. The man-eating plant they'd been attempting to trim had kept attacking Blaise. The Slytherin swore the plant was a racist but Dean had pointed out that he'd remained unscathed. Draco had said the plant was just drawn to Blaise as his mother was a man-eater and the plant thought of him as kin. Blaise just smirked and called the plant "little brother" for the rest of the period.

But the whole morning had been strange. Upon waking up he had heard Draco being sick in the bathroom. The blond had said it was just the potion but had gone to Madame Pomfrey to get a nausea potion before breakfast. At the meal Draco had eaten everything in sight and was openly friendly with Harry. He even shoveled sausages and fried tomatoes onto Harry's plate saying, "Eat, Potter, you'll starve to death." The blond was mostly quiet and seemed slightly distracted but very excited.

After lunch the seventh year Gryffindors and Slytherins had free time. At one Draco had gone to Snape and pulled Harry along. They had discussed the plan for the afternoon and Snape had taken Draco's wand saying it was best for Draco to never have it on his person. He had seemed subdued , told Draco they needed to leave promptly, and was strangely polite to Harry. With calm hands he had pushed his godson into a chair and handed him a snifter of fire whisky saying, "It will do no harm." He turned back to the guest in the room and said briskly, "Right, Potter, I'll show you out." He led Harry to the door with a grim expression. "He'll be fine," he had said softly.

"You're worried?" asked Harry, mindful to keep his voice low so Draco wouldn't hear.

"No," Snape had sneered, "just concerned. Good day, Potter. You'll have him back soon."

Stopping the door from closing by jamming his foot in, Harry had asked "Why are you grey if you're not scared?"

He had sounded so nervous but so grown up that Severus had nearly pitied the boy, "I'm simply concerned that this might not be the best course of action under the circumstances."

"Circumstances?" Harry had asked, not understanding what the man meant.

While his eyebrows had lifted Snape had said nothing but, "Goodbye, Potter. Go to your common room."

Ignoring the professor's orders Harry had pushed past the man and back into the room. He had dropped to his knees in front of Draco and said, "See you soon. Love you."

With a small smile Draco had reached out to touch the mage's face. He had glanced towards his godfather and then said, "Love you too, babe," and leaned forward to kiss Harry softly.

Waiting now in the common room the thought of the kiss made him smile. Draco had never kissed him in front of anyone but Blaise and to do so in front of his godfather was down right shocking. And he had _never_ called Harry babe. The whole scene had been orchestrated on Draco's part to piss the man off. Harry restlessly threw a handful of Fire Films powder into the flames; hoped it would hold his attention. Dean came over to him a short time later and leaned over Harry's chair.

"Sorry to interrupt your movie," said Dean.

"I'm not really watching. What's up?"

"This is ridiculous, I feel awkward for asking. . . but, I heard the Head Boy's toilet is awesome. I was wondering-"

Harry interrupted to put his friend out of the pain of having to ask. "Knock yourself out." He handed Dean the room key. "I might need to get into my room, so if you'd leave the hall door unlocked I'd be grateful. Bring towels, we're out of clean ones. . . The person you're showering with-"

"Hey! You're assuming I'm slutting about? Maybe I'm just taking a shower."

"You're not. You don't ask for the keys to the Head Boy's bath without having a damn good reason. I'm not a prude." Dean snorted. "I just wanted to ask if the person is liable to break stuff to spite Draco."

"It's _Neville_, Harry."

"Oh. Well he's not liable then." Harry smiled and turned back to the fire where a woman was hitting her cheating, lying, beautiful lover.

"I know you aren't a prude," Dean said apologetic over his outburst. "I think it's rather commendable that you're waiting."

"I'm not-"

"You don't have to explain it to me," shaking the keys Dean smiled, "thanks for this."

"No problem." It was only as Harry watched the boy's retreating back that he remembered the state of the room.

The windows were open so it wouldn't reek of sex but their clothes had been shed in an obvious path from the toilet to the bed. It was also obvious that only one bed had been slept in while the other had been set on fire. There was no way for him to clean the room before Dean and Neville saw it. With a sigh he turned back to his movie. Suddenly the flames went green and Draco stepped gracefully out before stumbling and falling to his knees in front of Harry.

Looking up he seemed deeply anxious as he said, "I just killed my father. The Ministry sent me this before I left the manor." He thrust a letter into Harry's hand.

'Dear Mister Malfoy,

The Ministry was upset to hear about your unfortunate incident. Accidental castings, such as yours, are regrettable and immutable. Yet they are forgivable events no matter the consequences. My personal condolences on your father's death.

David Aragus

Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes'

"They're saying it's an accident! I accidentally threw Avada Kedavra?" Draco laughed, "I killed him and they just said thanks!"

With a nod Harry said, "Come upstairs." He practically carried his lover away from the prying eyes and ears of the common room. He silently thanked Dean for remembering not to lock the hall door. Pulling Draco close, Harry sat on the bed closest to the door and asked, "Severus pulled through?"

The anxiety he'd worn downstairs melted away and Draco was left completely calm, too calm for Harry's tastes. "I told Father that I hated you, that I was disgusted with everything. I told him that I'd recovered my memories and sensibilities. All thrilled, he thought he could bring me back to the fold. He told me he would 'fix' my mind. He was going to place me under Imperio and I acted so pleased. When he hugged me Severus cast the curse on his turned back. Body heat fades extremely quickly after a body is spelled to death and I was holding him. I used to love him so much. Severus has gone to tell Mum." Draco pulled away and stood up quickly. Shucking his clothes off he said, "Har, undress. There's something I need to tell you and I'd rather be in bed."

"Neville and Dean are in our shower."

"Fine, strip down to your pants. Everyone's going to know soon enough and they're your friends. Please, Har, I need this."

"Okay," Harry nodded as he slipped out of his robes and trousers. It had never been his idea to keep their relationship a secret. "Are you alright?"

"I'm perfect," Draco slid into bed and smiled warmly. "Come 'ere."

Climbing in Harry asked, "You're sure you're okay? You're allowed to not be okay."

"Honestly? I orchestrated his death and I am totally fine. I almost feel guilty for not feeling guilty. And I waited for the pain to hit me while I was holding his corpse but I feel nothing but relief." He rested against Harry's side and said, "Thanks for this."

"Of course," Harry said puling him closer.

With a small sigh Draco whispered, "I have some news."

"Yeah?"

"Severus already knows, I'm sorry. I wanted to tell you first. Madame Pomfrey made me tell him even though I'm seventeen and not underage. She said I might be an adult but I'm also a school boy and he's my godfather. I was so angry, I wanted to tell you first and I couldn't tell you before I went home."

"Tell me what?" asked Harry swallowing nervously.

"You said last night would be perfect. It was. Even the aftermath is perfect. In three months time I'll have your child. . . say something, Harry."

Harry was slow and unsure as he said, "Whoa. Wow. How?"

"Well," Draco said slowly. "You're a mage. And last night, as you're a pervert, I had two sets of come up my arse. And love, magic, and come all mixed together. Are you upset?"

"No! Never. Shocked, excited, scared witless but not upset. You're giving me a family. Co, it's perfect."

Still speaking in hushed tones he said, "You're seventeen. Are you ready?"

Shaking his head Harry said, "No, but I'm not sure I'll ever think I'm ready. You'll be with me. It'll all be fine. Three months?"

"Male pregnancies are dangerous so the magic of it speeds it all up to get the father and the baby past any sticky spots quickly."

"My God. I don't what to say. I love you."

"I'm sorry. I wanted to tell you in a really special way but Severus knows, Madame Pomfrey knows. She said that she was legally bound to tell the Ministry as it's a mystical pregnancy. So it'll be on the cover of the evening edition of the Prophet."

"Co, you couldn't make it any more special than it is. Anything, a romantic dinner, a moon lit walk: it would have been setting a diamond in plastic. I'm gonna have a family you can't top that."

"You promised we'd be together forever. I guess the Powers are safeguarding that promise."

The tone was frightening, as though Draco believed the baby was their only link. Touching the blond's face Harry whispered, "We're eternal with or without a baby. We fought for way too long and way to hard against _them_, and everyone, and us to lose each other now. You're stuck with me forever, no matter what."

Smiling Draco said, "Stuck sounds good." They kissed almost sleepily.

"Thank you."

"For what?"

"For being my lover. For wanting me. For being my best friend. For giving me everything I ever wanted."

Unable to reply to the comment he hadn't been prepared for Draco laughed, "I love you too." Kissing every reachable spot on his lover's body he rubbed against him gently. "You're going to be an amazing father."

"So are you," Harry promised while pulling his fingers through slightly dirty hair and almost laughing before sealing their mouths together.

Who would believe that meticulous Draco Malfoy could get dirty? The shower they'd taken before the feast seemed years away. With others Draco put up glamours, temporary cleaning spells. He always looked put together even on the battle fields he had seemed so clean. It was only afterwards, falling into bed and out of the thaumaturgic thrall, that dirty nails and sweaty thighs would reveal themselves and he would say, "I have to bathe," and then curl into Harry's side.

Hair lacking shine and that fell in slightly matted, lank strands surrounded his face and Harry wanted to kiss the mouth forever. Skin slightly grey with sweat and grim rubbed against his own and Harry knew he was the luckiest man on dry earth. "Make love to me?" he begged.

"Forever," promised Draco as he nipped at Harry's shoulder.

The toilet door swung open and Dean said cheerfully, "Thanks for lending us the shower." He had a hand on Neville's be-toweled hip. "Oh!" he said catching sight of them, "so, so sorry."

"Don't worry," Draco smiled, "Was the shower _hot_ enough for you?"

Neville blushed and the mirror shouted, "Hells yes!"

"Guys, cut it out," Harry laughed. "Can we tell them?"

With a glance at the pair Draco replied, "Go on then." Turning to Dean and Neville he warned, "Don't mention it to anyone, Blaise needs to think he was told first."

The boys nodded silently and Harry burst, "Draco's up the spout! Come December we'll have a kid!"

"Up the spout? Merlin, you're a romantic, Har." Draco forgot about the audience and kissed the mage slowly.

"So the coma pulled you together?" Dean seemed dazed.

"No," Neville said softly, "they've been together for ages."

"You knew?" Harry laughed happily. His life rocked at times.

"Invisibility cloaks don't hide sound and green houses echo."

"Told you Green House Four wasn't the ideal location for a nooner," Draco was smiling like the cat who caught the canary, drank the cream, bit the dog, and got away with it.

With a shrug Harry said, "You weren't wearing a shirt."

"I was digging in a hot house. It wasn't seduction."

Rolling his eyes at Draco's denseness Harry said, "You smelled good," as though that explained it all. He took any harshness out of his tone by raining kisses over his lover's shoulders, "Like now," he whispered.

"How long?" asked Dean still shocked.

"Two years," Harry said. They'd been together a year and a half but Draco had loved him for two years. "Neville? I think Dean might faint; he's not breathing right."

Neville nodded with a sympathetic smile directed towards Dean and led him out. At the door he said, "Congratulations on the baby."

"Thank you," Draco smiled gently. As the door was shutting he said, "We'd better tell Blaise before the paper comes out, we'll dash off a letter. Then we can sleep through the first rotation of the rumor mill."

"But I want to get laid now!" whinged Harry who could hear Neville's laugh just before the door finally clicked shut.

"My nails are filthy," Draco commented.

"Don't you dare get out clippers! I won't get any for an hour if you start on your nails!"

In a few sexy movements Draco was standing at the desk, writing. He spoke aloud as he scribbled the note so that Harry would know what was being said, "Dear Blaise, Harry's gotten me in trouble. Yeah, the baby's due on December second. Har's going to have to make me an honest man now. Respond at your own leisure; we're going to bed. With affection, Draco and the fetus." He singed the letter with a flourish and tapped the parchment twice. They'd set up the direct contact system years ago, Blaise would get the note in only moments.

"In Trouble? Fetus?" Harry repeated incredulously.

"He'll laugh."

"I hate to put off sex, but have you told your mother? She shouldn't have to read about it in the paper."

"She doesn't read that rag and Severus is telling her. I'm going to see her this weekend. Would you like to come?"

With a laugh Harry shook his head, "She doesn't like me and I knocked up her son."

"Are you kidding?" Draco laughed, "You're the reason she's lived long enough to see a grandchild. You're the reason her son's not a Death Eater."

"But I always thought-"

"Are you coming? Snape's getting sick of Mum's constant praise of you. I think she'd be grateful if you did."

"Okay, I'll come."

As he shimmied out of pale green pants he slid back into bed. Practically purring Draco said, "Give me a half hour and I'll have us both coming."


End file.
